Earth Wars
by Pokybyte
Summary: A fic about what could happen if Earth were attacked by the Empire. Would we even put up a decent fight? How would we adapt? Follow the fate of characters from each side as the battle rages on. V slightly alternate EU, rated Kplus for violence may change , please review! I'm back!
1. Rediscovery

**First off, I wanted to thank the betas for their role in fixing the story - you certainly helped to iron out some of the mistakes I made! I know I asked other people to read it, but somehow either I made a mistake in DocX or there was an error in communication. In any case, please excuse me. This fic is about the Empire attacking Earth; I like to have a deep plot and geekery in terms of military equipment on all sides, so if you want a really lighthearted kiddyfic this is probably not for you (you can give it a try though!). Though George Lucas doesn't exist in the story, he certainly does in real life and he owns this universe. If you want to use my characters or story in any way, please ask. Lastly, if you do read the story, please leave a review! I really appreciate it!**

*******

**Tatooine**

**1 week ABY**

Captain Peeko, member of Alliance Intelligence, looked at the man sitting on the opposite side of the table. He was obviously paranoid beyond belief, wide blue eyes darting from door to door and hand reaching for his blaster every time someone walked in or out. He had a fairly long black beard, messy black hair and wore an unspectacular combination of brown shirt and trousers. He did not want to be noticed, that much was obvious, perhaps too much so. He was also desperate for credits, as he had a price to pay for Jabba's protection. An ex-imperial lieutenant's savings were not enough, but a man with Imperial secrets who was willing to sell them wasn't poor long. Nor did he survive more than a few months with his new-found riches. It didn't matter to the clean-shaven rebel however, because he needed intel, and if that meant spending a bit of money to give a doomed guy some much-needed last-minute fun then so be it. And this guy seemed to know something _big_.

They were in a bar in Mos Eisley, where he had a tip-off that a Death Star survivor was willing to sell information to the rebels. Peeko had accepted to meet him more out of curiosity than anything else really, and he had enough friends in the bar to hold off a few stormtroopers if that's what it would come to. He had his trusty blaster holstered at his side. He was tall and powerfully built; not necessarily ideal for a spy, but it helped to be intimidating, especially since he was bald and people were always scared of that. He just didn't suit the image of someone who should not be noticed, especially because he wore a bright red jacket.

"I... I found something when looking... looking through the Old Republic archives," stammered the ex-imp. "I reported it two weeks ago and was immediately sent to Tarquin to explain my findings. It's that important."

No doubt the man would be overplaying his cards, but that was always the case. Desperate people tried to get everything they could out of what little they had, he understood that, but he had to seem disinterested to get them even more panicky. This did seem juicy though, even if he wouldn't give that fact away.

"Oh really?" He asked, raising his eyebrows slowly. "And why would that be?"

"Credits first, or you're getting nothing," said the imp, exasperatingly defiant.

Peeko then did what he had done countless times before in similar situations. He yawned, stretched his arms and got ready to leave. Slowly.

"I'm going to need more than that to justify spending the Alliance's sorely needed money," he said simultaneously. As always with deserters, the ancient bargaining trick worked perfectly.

"No! Don't leave!" the ex-Imp said jumping and grabbing Peeko's arm. "Okay, I found a planet that has been meticulously deleted from every other star map I have ever seen. And I mean pretty much every single one in circulation today, and I would wager that those I haven't seen don't have it either."

"Okay, so you found a lost planet. Well done, don't waste my time!" grumbled Peeko, his interest peaking inside, threatening as it always tried to to make him show his excitement.

"There's more! I overheard Admiral Theese talking to Palpatine himself. He's been tasked with assembling a small fleet to check it out. Something about it being the ideal planet for the humans who serve the Empire, and maybe even a weapon."

"Where is this planet?" asked Peeko.

"Credits."

Peeko knew better than to argue – this guy had just revealed something incredibly interesting and potentially dangerous. It had to be stopped before it happened. No, even better, it had to be used to the Alliance's advantage. He handed the hundred thousand credits over that had been agreed. The ex-imp would be alright for at least a decade with that money in terms of protection from Jabba the Hutt. But that just meant Jabba wouldn't kill him if he spent his time in the slug's palace, not that he would have a security guard or something. Empire assassins had been there, done their job and come out alive before – so long as Boba Fett wasn't present.

The ex-imp slid a small holopad over to Peeko who picked it up and looked at the Hyperspace coordinates that would get him to where this planet he could hopefully find first was. Nothing but a series of letters and numbers, and he noticed in the coding of it that it was nearer to the edge of the galaxy than he would have liked. Not that it mattered.

"You never met me," said Peeko to the ex-imp. The man replied with the same sentence, just pointing at himself, before leaving the bar in a bit of a rush. Peeko finished his drink and made his way to his ship.

Sergeant Manali was leaning on the Corellian YT-1250 light freighter they used when they were on missions. It only had boosted speed capabilities – anything else would have attracted too much attention, even if it did mean that shooting down TIE Fighters was harder than need be. He was a short, athletic man with short brown hair and stubble. He was considered good looking in that macho square-jaw sort of way, and he took full advantage of it whenever he could. He was a decent pilot, but most importantly he was gifted in anything that involved technology in any way at all. He had proven invaluable to Peeko far more times than the Captain liked to think, and they got on like a house on fire. That helped keep their teamwork up to par.

"And? Anything interesting?" asked Manali.

"You betcha. Quick, enter these Hyperspace coordinates and let's go."

Manali raised his eyebrows in confusion but said nothing, taking the holopad and rushing to his cockpit. When he entered the coordinates, the navigational computer barked a warning about the coordinates leading to uncharted territories, forcing him to confirm five times before it accepted his choice.

"Where are we going? Care to explain Sir?"

"I have absolutely no idea," said Peeko. "But wherever it is we're going, we've got to get there before the Empire does"

Manali shrugged, pressed a button and watched the stars turn into a mass of white lines before they melted into the blue void of Hyperspace.

***

**Earth**

**December 1, 2009**

Moritz Tanner, Zafir Milovic and Ahmed Kudun breathed a sigh of relief as they got to the top of the hill. They all had exactly the same gear on: big black boots, khaki uncamouflaged military uniforms with light green belts, red armbands with a white stripe through the middle on their left arms and a short cap with what looked like a red and white target in the middle of their foreheads. Their hands were first covered by woolly gloves and then mittens that allowed individual movement of the index finger. This was important, for it allowed them to use what was strapped to their backs despite the cold: each of them had a _Sturmgewehr 77, _known to most relatively young men of the world who had ever played a computer game as the bullpup Steyr AUG. It was an odd-looking rifle, made mostly of dark green plastic and black metal, with the magazine loaded behind the trigger rather than in front and a scope on the top that enabled greater accuracy over long distances. Completing their combat suits were two packs each containing two extra magazines of ammunition and a water-bottle, although these were now frozen. Zafir also carried their radio, because he had pulled the short straw that day. Not only was it an extra kilo, but it had a massive antenna that somehow always managed to be in the way. Finally, they all held currently switched-on torches that could easily be switched between white, green, red and blue light.

The three looked at what they could see of each other in the dark, forced a snigger and decided to take a smoke break, switching off their guiding torches. They could do that because they were mere _Rekruten_, privates who had been conscripted like almost every man in Austria has for six months of his life, and therefore had no power but also carried no responsibility. They were merely continuing Austria's practice of patrolling the border for people coming in illegally. Anyone without ID or a valid VISA was taken in, questioned and usually released all within the same day – because ninety percent of those they caught were tourists on a hike who hadn't realised they'd even crossed the border. However, some people really were trying to smuggle themselves in, so it was up to the recruits to do this for four and a half months as part of their national service. Most of them never even caught tourists.

They all sat on rocks on the side of the dirt road as they smoked their cigarettes, looking into the Hungarian valley ahead.

"Face it guys," said Zafir, pausing to blow out smoke. "We're never going to catch anyone. Who would be stupid enough to walk right into the waiting hands of some bored dudes with assault rifles? If they're coming through here they know about us, they know our patrol routes and approximate times. No one is that dim."

"You'd think so wouldn't you?" asked Ahmed. "And yet it happens all the time!"

Moritz groaned. They had the same conversation every day, and he just didn't feel like it today. They'd understand, everyone had their off days. He wondered what the hell he was doing here, in the middle of nowhere waiting for nothing to happen, just going on long walks every day through the freezing wind and snow. If they were really unlucky it rained when they were halfway through their patrol, soaking them through to the bone. They'd then cower in their tent, although at least that stayed dry and had a kind of oven that burned wooden pellets and got hot very fast.

Driving the unpleasantness from his mind, Moritz remembered basic training. The first two weeks had been the worst of his life: cutting his long, curly hair, getting shouted at every five minutes as they all failed yet another seemingly impossible task, gruelling fitness (holding press-ups was the worst thing ever!) and marching practice that went on for hours. Some memories made him laugh, for example that time he panicked when they got their guns the first time and couldn't remember how to hold it properly at attention. He held it downwards at the beginning, so Master Corporal Chermak had shouted at him to turn it around and look at his neighbours, which he did but he held the gun with the magazine facing his body, which was also wrong. Chermak had gotten into such a fit of rage that his fat face had reddened considerably and foam had appeared at the side of his mouth.

Gradually of course, they got better and he'd found that his comrades – at least the ones in his room – were all mostly good guys he could be friends with. Exactly the two he was with now had been his room-mates, the other three of the six-man room having dropped out for health reasons after a couple of weeks. No replacements ever arrived. Ahmed was a class act: of Turkish origin and only eighteen, he could always diffuse tense situations with a silly joke and generally helped keep people sane. Zafir on the other hand was half-Croatian and thirty-two. The reason for his late national service was that he'd avoided it when moving to the USA when he was sixteen. Now he was back, and after six months of happy life in Austria he got a letter inviting him for medical tests. Another six months later and he was with a load of kids playing armed boy-scouts.

The two others went quiet, which interrupted Moritz's reverie. Why had they shut up? He followed their gaze but saw nothing in the darkness. However, he did hear it. A vehicle of some sort was coming their way, without headlights on, and it seemed to be traveling in a low gear at high power.

"Heavy load, poor engine and definitely not one of our Pinzgauers," said Zafir. "Let's roll that rock into the road and move up thirsty meters. You know the drill."

They heaved the huge round lump of rock into the middle of the path, blocking it in case the vehicle tried to escape. Then, they half cocked their rifles, which meant they pulled the latch back and nudged it into a little wedge. This way accidental firing of the weapon was unlikely, but they would save a valuable second if things went awry. Ahmed ran forward and waited until he was sure the van was near. The moon suddenly lit up the area as a cloud moved, and suddenly they could see it: an old Ford Transit, it was crawling up the hill towards them. Ahmed waved his torch around in red light mode, and held his arm out in the "stop" sign. The van slowed to a halt, a loud groan coming from its brakes and chassis. Zafir went around the back of the van to see if they were being followed (an old smuggling tactic: the van pulls up, nothing inside when it is checked. Meanwhile, the ones being smuggled creep around the patrol and get back in afterwards.) as Ahmed asked for ID.

"_Halt! Ausweiskontrolle_!"

The two men in the front of the battered Ford looked at each other and shrugged. The driver quickly pulled out a card, as did the passenger. All seemed to be in order.

"Why are you driving without headlights? It's very dangerous," asked Ahmed. It was also very suspicious.

"We're driving up to the Brandstätter-farm, and this van loses power uphill when you turn them on," answered the driver.

They all knew the farm in question and this was certainly the way, so there didn't seem to be any need to keep them there longer. That is, until a loud banging could be heard from inside the van. Ahmed looked at the two men questioningly.

Moritz saw the whole thing in slow-motion and tried to warn Ahmed as he saw the pistol being brought up. Instead, the eighteen year-old turned to look at him as the driver fired point-blank into the side of his skull. Blood spattered out and Moritz dove out of the way. He looked around the corner, seeing that now the passenger had the weapon and the driver tried to start the car. The car stalled and Moritz cocked his weapon, breathed deeply twice and peeked around the corner of the rock he was using for cover. Training took over. _No full-auto, always two rounds_. He peeked around the corner, weapon already in position and peered through the scope and noticed that in their panic they had left the van's inside light on. He fired two shots off at the driver and hid behind the rock again. An intense cry of pain indicated that he had hit something as pistol rounds zipped by, going completely wide.

"Moritz, come on out It's clear!" shouted Zafir.

Moritz was trembling but looked around the corner. His friend was aiming his rifle at the two suspects who'd obviously completely forgotten about him. The passenger had grudgingly thrown his weapon away as the driver clutched his arm. The blond nineteen year-old made his way down, knowing before he arrived that Ahmed was dead.

"Let's get the guys outta the van," said Zafir. "_Raus da!_" He shouted at the men, opening the passenger's door and taking out the first new prisoner.

Moritz had to stop himself from vomiting as he stepped on a piece of his friend's brain on the way to the driver, whom he unceremoniously dragged out of the vehicle and kicked to the ground with a hit behind the knees.

"You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent and to a lawyer, as well as one call to a person of your choice," growled Zafir, raging. They bound the two using a rope that was in the front of the van, radioed in for back-up and an ambulance.

"Let's go check out the back," said Moritz, hoping it would distract him from the death of his good friend.

Zafir knew what Moritz was doing and nodded, indicating that he would stay there to guard over the two idiots. As the younger soldier walked to the rear doors, the older roughly bandaged the driver's bullet wound which caused the screams of agony he desired to come from that man. The other got a rifle-butt to the face for his troubles. There was no way he was getting away with no pain.

"Zaf dude, I think you're going to have to call for two Pinzgauers at least," said Moritz as he looked into the sea of black, terrified faces that had been trying to get into his country.

All of them were standing in the back, there had to be over a dozen people in there. He didn't make them get out because the cold would be unbearable to people in T-shirts. Instead, he just said:

"You'll be fine, I promise." in English and shut the doors again to report his findings over the Walkie-Talkie.

***

**Coruscant**

**1 week ABY**

"I trust the preparations are going according to plan, Admiral?" asked a dark, raspy voice from a blue hologram on a table. The figure sat on a bland throne, its face hooded as it spoke menacingly.

"Yes my Lord," came the answer. "The troop transports are undergoing final repairs and will be finished in around four weeks time. At that moment, the fleet will be ready for departure."

"Good. That will be all, unless there are any questions."

The tone seemed to indicate that the Emperor didn't want to answer any questions, but Theese decided he must. "There is but one, my Lord, and it is a pressing matter."

"What is it, Admiral?"

"Where is it that we are going?" asked the fat man at his desk, sweating profusely. He had a receding hairline and his cheeks wobbled when he spoke. He regularly had to dab a piece of cloth on his forehead to make sure his face didn't glisten too much.

"You will find out in due course, Admiral Theese, as I have told you before. I will only say this once more this time. Ask again and I shall have your tongue." answered an annoyed Darth Sidious, before his hologram disappeared from view, leaving nothing but a blue light shining into nothingness. Eventually it switched itself off too, whilst Theese pondered what he had just been told.

After all he had done for the Empire, after all he had sacrificed, the Emperor still treated him with disdain. He didn't understand it! Luckily, he would have a huge army to crush whichever planet it was they were invading this time. There would be no repeats of his failure to secure victory quickly enough like on Tatooine. This would be quick and decisive.

He pressed a button on his desk and moments later his personal assistant, Captain Kobarrn, was in the room standing at attention in his naval officer's uniform.

"The old fool gave me no more details of the assignment again. He insults me with ridiculously easy tasks, yet gives me no information on what we'll be facing. Invade one planet? Why do we need an invasion fleet?" said the Admiral, venting his frustration.

Whilst Theese was obscenely fat and had a flabby face, Captain Kobarrn was the exact opposite: he kept himself in good shape, was not one to moan and certainly did not call the Emperor an old fool. He was disciplined to the very core of his being – unlike his superior, who was known to enjoy the illegal company of girls who were far too young. When the day was right, he would report him to the authorities but for now he needed the man. He needed the fatso because he had contacts, and Kobarrn was keen on having these contacts too.

"Maybe it will be a great enemy, Sir," stated Kobarrn. "Surely it would not be an insult in this case?"

"You were always good at kissing ass, Kobarrn, and you still are. It's good having you around, I like you," said Theese lighting his Twi'lekk-shaped pipe. _That pipe_, thought Kobarrn, rage building inside himself, but he managed to control his emotions.

_It is an insult to the Empire that such a man is in a position of such power_, the captain realised outraged.

"Captain Kobarrn, if there's nothing else you can bugger off out of my office. Thank you."

Kobarrn bowed and left the room, fuming. _He _had ordered _him _to come in, once again the captain's time had been wasted. At least it was worth it, he figured, and he could always just report the admiral if things went too far. He had concrete proof of the man's guilt. Maybe he could use whatever assignment they were going on - after all it had to be of some importance, considering the direct involvement of the Emperor himself - to his advantage and further his career. It was highly likely that the admiral would disappoint in some way, so the man who would set things right would be seen in a very good light. Yes, he was going to make sure Theese had a hard time.

***

**Thanks for reading, if you could leave a review that would be kind!**


	2. First Strike

**First Strike**

***

**Earth Space**

**10 days ABY**

Captain Peeko was intrigued by the constant streams of data flickering at ridiculous speeds on his monitor. He and Manali had been analyzing the mountain of information for an entire day; the human population there had been a big surprise. More importantly, there were billions of them! The on-board scanner was still busy, but there were definitely many, many people down there. And two in some sort of space station orbiting the beautiful planet, but those two had reacted very oddly when he'd flown close by to wave.

"Maybe waving is offensive," said Peeko pensively.

Manali guffawed in response but said nothing as he was busy getting the translation machine calibrated to decode the languages below. Since they were human languages and the brain functions in a relatively similar way all over the galaxy, it allowed them to be decoded in an hour or two at a time; so far he only had three, although these seemed to be the most common on their version of the Holonet. They also had their own version of Basic, a language spoken by almost all: English. This is what they were going to concentrate on.

A few hours later, the on-board computer was conducting statistical analysis on the news they had accidentally discovered on the vast planetary network of computers. It was quite impressive for a planet that wasn't even successfully sending manned teams out beyond its moon, but simple in galactic terms of course. The computer began flashing a red light wildly, indicating that something of interest (a complex set of algorithms and preferences allowed it to decide what was important) and Peeko jogged to it. What he saw made his jaw drop first, but this soon developed into a sly grin.

***

**Earth**

**December 8, 2009**

Barry Omaba smiled his broad, famous smile and shook the hand of yet another head of state. He didn't even recognize this one at all, but a little voice in his ear, coming from a tiny earpiece, told him it was Dragos Bariscu, the Romanian president. This was never ending! Copenhagen had been a bad idea.

"How's Budapest? I hear the snow makes it quite beautiful this time of year," he said, not knowing what else to tell the man he was shaking hands with.

Bariscu did not know if that had been a joke or whether the president of the most powerful nation on Earth had really just confused Budapest with Bucharest, his capital city.

Omaba gave a hearty laugh and patted the Romanian president on the back. "I was only joking sir, please forgive me!"

Barry Omaba was almost seven feet tall, was of half-African descent and the first "colored" president of his country. He was a charming man whose smile could convince many people of its earnestness – certainly enough to get voted in. He always wore a suit, and today was no exception. He liked a good suit. That thought was interrupted by high-pitched screams, but luckily no gunfire or explosions. No, the reason for the screaming was quite obvious: a large craft of some sort was landing in the palace gardens. It looked strangely out of place in the carefully tendered patch of green in stopped on, surrounded by statues and trimmed hedges. In fact, it looked like a pile of Lego put together by a ten year-old.

"Greetings, people of Earth!" bellowed a voice from the almost circular craft, obviously through some sort of speaker. "Fear not, we come in peace."

Everyone ducked as a loud hissing noise could be heard and steam flew out around a door. Security personnel – at least those not stunned into immobility - pulled their weapons and aimed in preparation for any attack. The silence among the crowd of world leaders and their wives was tense as the ramp fell open with a bang, everyone worried about what to expect. Little green men? Hairy seven foot monsters? Certainly not, in fact, what came out of the dropped hatch at that moment.

Or rather, who. Peeko didn't really look the part of an invader, an impressive man perhaps but the only things distinguishing him from a regular human on Earth were his odd facial gear and the weapon holstered at his hip. The silver mask covered the man's mouth, reached from his throat up to his ears but didn't seem to be a breathing device or look in any way threatening due to its soothing curves. He was followed by another, shorter man who did not wear a mask although he too had a weapon. They just walked forwards and stopped when they reached the first Earthling.

"I come bearing a warning," started Peeko. He felt like an idiot because his translator had taken over the muscles required for speech. It felt like cheating, but he really didn't have the time to learn a local language. "I must speak to the leaders of this planet within the shortest possible delay. The way I understand it, they are almost all present."

Peeko smiled at their shocked faces, but none of them showed the slightest inclination of even beginning to talk to him. Finally, one of the men in the crowd came forward. It was the president of the United States of America, and as he made his way forward he tried to look as calm as possible. He knew, in his heart, that this man spoke the truth. There was no way this was a hoax - if anyone on Earth had the technology to make an aircraft that flew this way, he would have known of it. Something was telling him to go along with it, to believe this guy and to trust him. It felt a bit like a thousand voices egging him on, louder than his inhibitions. It felt strange, but he had had this feeling before and it had always paid to follow his instinct. He smiled at the man in front of him before speaking.

"Let me be the first, then, to welcome you to our humble little planet. You look like you're in a rush, so let's get straight to it."

Captain Peeko knew he would like this man already as he was taken gently by the arm to a very nice looking building – the conference center for the Climate Summit. Well, that would have to be put on hold a little bit.

***

**December 10, 2009**

"Due to these obviously incredible circumstances, all troops will be leaving crisis regions for the direct defence of their respective home nations. This is a time for us, the people of Earth, to unite. Only then do we have a chance against this evil Empire, only then do we have an outside chance of success. I will stress, however, that just because we are leaving war-torn regions it does not mean we are abandoning them. Supplies of food, weaponry and equipment will continue as long as they can, and we will be leaving behind complete arsenals for locals to defend themselves with.

The Rebel Alliance officer, Captain Peeko, was kind enough to lend us his skilled assistant, Sergeant Manali, to improve our communication systems. This is an absolute must, for without them we will be but a footnote in galactic history forever. I suggest people leave the cities, although all nations have agreed to arm anyone willing to fight – it seems we will be needing anyone who wants to defend not only his or her family, their home, their country but also their planet. It is your fundamental right as citizens of Earth, we agreed, to be able to fight. It is also your fundamental right as citizens of Earth, we agreed, to be able to flee the fighting. It is up to you. We don't know how long we've got, apparently a month. We'll see. Whenever it is they arrive, we'll be ready.

Let's hope the promised help from the Alliance arrives. Let's hope we survive. Above all, however, let's hope we give these colonial bastards the kicking they deserve because we, the citizens of Earth, are not going to give up what is rightfully ours!"

The news commentator's voice drowned out the loud cheers of the huge crowds gathered in front of the White House. Moritz could hardly believe what he was watching. An empire wanted Earth? What for? He was sitting on the couch at his grandparents' house next to his grandmother, who had just started her second packet of Muratti cigarettes of the day. He'd had to come to Vienna anyway to report the incident and get some time off deal with Ahmed's death, but somehow he figured his so-called therapeutic absence wasn't going to last much longer. His phone rang, Zafir's name appearing on the screen.

"Hey man," he said bringing the mobile phone to his ear. "You watch the speech?"

"Yeah pretty good, huh? This is crazy, like something out of a movie," answered Zafir.

"Did you hear about the guys on the International Space Station?"

"No, what happened?"

"Apparently that Peeko guy waved at them and they pretty-much shat themselves!" Moritz said already laughing with Zafir joining in moments later.

"Listen man," started Zafir after a moment of silence. "I just got a call from some dude called colonel Hofer. We've been ordered to report back at the military academy because we speak English and we're suddenly desperately needed. He asked me to tell you."

Moritz sighed. "Damn. When?"

"Tomorrow morning, seven o'clock sharp. Might want to say goodbye to the grandparents and warn your mum and dad - we won't be going home for a while."

***

**Sol System, aboard the Star Destroyer **_**Dragonfang**_

**35 days ABY**

"This information is most pleasing, Admiral," said the Emperor's blue hologram. "I want this planet, and I want you to minimize any damage."

"My Lord? How am I supposed to invade a planet if I am not allowed to use the full extent of our weaponry?" asked Theese.

"I grow tired of your repeated questioning of my orders, Admiral. I said minimize damage, not a pillow fight. I want these people and their culture to join us, not to be crippled for ever."

"It will be done, my Lord," said Theese bowing.

"Do not fail me."

As abruptly as the conversation had begun, it had ended again. Admiral Theese pressed the buzzer on his table, summoning his assistant.

"Since when does the Emperor care for human life, or primitive culture?" he asked Kobarrn.

"Sir, I do not believe he does," said the Captain honestly. "He wants to consolidate the Empire after what happened at Yavin; maybe a fairly advanced human civilization getting discovered will limit the danger of mass-defection towards the rebel side?"

Kobarrn felt sure that it would be something like this and not, as had previously been rumored, a search for resources.

"You're a clever little cookie aren't you?", teased Theese, causing Kobarrn to turn red with rage for a moment. "Is everything in order? Report on the assault fleet."

It sounded more like the admiral felt like he had to pretend to be doing some work.

"Yes sir, we are in position behind the solar system's largest planet, a gas giant the Earthling network names _Jupiter_," started the Captain. "The five other Star Destroyers are reporting no anomalies, apart from some easily repairable issues; the ten escort carriers report no problems and the last of our assault fleet, carrying our ground forces, are arriving shortly after a delay caused by a hyperdive leak - they didn't want to leave anyone behind."

"Find the one responsible for the leak and have him executed," responded Theese angrily. "Order all forces to take point around the planet. I want to intimidate the enemy for a little bit."

Captain Kobarrn stopped himself from lashing out at the idiotic grin in front of him and bowed. "As you wish, sir."

***

**Exiting Earth's Orbit**

**36 days ABY**

Major General Francis Harrison almost smirked as the space shuttle _Discovery _got caught in the promised tractor beam. He was here on a diplomatic mission - to welcome the Empire, offer help, but not give any independence away under any circumstances. Over the last month, they had meticulously removed (or falsified) any modern military technical data and mention of Captain Peeko from the Internet. Now, they would see whether the Empire worked in the same way as the rebels when they arrived somewhere new. Now, they would know whether the ruse had worked. As he floated through space he got a good look at the ships surrounding his home planet: there were six triangles, about ten ships half that size and hundreds that looked almost unarmed. These ships were smaller, but not as small as the nifty-looking flying 'H's that were zipping around everywhere. Oh, there were no illusions: Earth was in trouble.

He entered the dagger-shaped giant ship through one of the bay doors and looked out through the viewports. There were at least one hundred men clad entirely in white and clutching a weapon arranged in rows. Nothing like Iraq or Afghanistan; perfect discipline with no misplaced feet or weapons held at a different angle. He saw the intimidating approach and smiled: humans were the damned same everywhere.

He picked up his heavy backpack and put it on. Before leaving the shuttle he checked the mirror quickly. His uniform was spotless, his hair would have been perfectly black had it not been for the odd bright white strand. He looked fit enough to represent Earth, of that he was sure. As he left the ship, he promised himself not to give in.

"Greetings," said a silver, humanoid droid, interpreting for the officer standing at the foot of the ship with whom he'd just shaken hands. "This is Commander Albus, he welcomes you to the _Dragonclaw_. Please follow us to a more private location."

"Of course," he said bowing.

As they made their way to the VIP room unescorted, the officer began conversation. "What is this big pouch for you carry?"

"I am transmitting this meeting to my people back home. This is a major event in our history," he answered. "Are you the leader of this amazing fleet?"

The Commander chuckled. "No, I am in command of this ship only. I represent my people, as do you."

Harrison had no counter to that claim, so he kept quiet until they arrived where they wanted to go. On the way, he kept busy by filming as much of the ship as he could without seeming suspicious. Eventually, they entered a scantily decorated meeting room. The Major General sat on one of the chairs - it was fantastically comfortable, very soft and applying itself to his bodyshape. He remarked this to his counterpart, who chuckled.

"So, as the representative of the people of Earth," said Harrison, "I wanted to welcome you here. Who are you and what do you want?"

"Well," began the officer. "We are but a small part of the Galactic Empire's infinite power. Our demand is quite simple: hand over control over you planet. Do as we say and we will keep you and your people alive. Refuse and you will be crushed until there is nothing left of your pitiful civilization but dust."

Despite the fact that Harrison had known that a threat would be made, he was still taken aback by it and the unquestionable delight the officer in front of him was in as he made it.

"You mean to say, you want our planet for yourself? What will happen with my people here?"

"They will obey the wishes of the Emperor, whatever those might be." He slid a piece of synthetic paper over the table. "Using your language we have written out a contract whereby your planetary leaders abandon all power and hand it over to us. Sign it, and you can save your family."

Harrison looked at it. Astonishingly, the English was perfect, as were the legal terms. They really had done well in such a short space of time. It made him wonder how long they'd been watching.

"You know as well as I do that I can't sign that. The people of Earth would never accept it anyway, nor will they accept your Emperor simply because he has a few spaceships."

"We will not negotiate. This is your last chance."

The old major general looked saddened at this, and looked at the floor. He looked up at the commander slowly, defeat easily readable on his face.

"In that case," he said, "you leave me no choice." He paused for a moment, unsure what else to say. Finally and to the commander's confusion, he took the button-camera off his uniform, turned it around and spoke into it. "Never give in."

With that, he flicked a switch and everything went white.

***

**The Dragonfang, Earth Space**

"What is going on?" shouted Admiral Theese into his comlink as the sirens blared. "Someone, report!"

"Two gigantic explosions from inside the _Dragonclaw _sir!" came an unknown voice from the speaker. "One smaller one blew the bridge clean off and the other disabled all power systems from the hangar bay. She's going down!"

Theese roared with anger and quickly made his way to the bridge.

"Sir! We have thousands of contacts leaving the planet's atmosphere at very high speed," shouted someone.

"Fighters? I thought they barely even made it to their moon? Send the TIE Fighters!"

"Launching. The squadron protecting the _Dragonfang_ got wiped out in the explosion," answered a nervous communications officer.

Theese punched and cracked a glass panel used for tactical analysis in frustration.

"Sir, these objects aren't manned. In fact, they're not fighters at all - they're carrying a payload! They've fired rockets! Initiating standard defensive procedures."

All the men were working frantically at their keyboards, relaying calculations, messages and orders to all those concerned. Rockets disintegrated in one hit as a few long-range lasers from the Star Destroyers plowed into them, but there were too many. The planet almost looked like it had air as they left their white streaks behind, coming from all continents and making for the fleet. One hundred and fifty TIE Fighters were on their way to meet them, arranged in a wide line so that all of them had a free view of the oncoming objects.

"TIE Fighters will be in range of contacts in five, four, three, two, one, open fire!"

Theese sighed with relief as the rapid-firing TIEs did their job far more effectively, cutting through the missiles like a very large knife through butter. It emerged quickly, however, that a few still managed to slip through. The first one hit a troop transport, the half-mile long ship getting ripped in half and both pieces spinning to smash into two others like hammers.

"Admiral! We just lost three transports!"

Theese was shocked. Although three transports might seem insignificant when you had fifty, he was intensely aware of the fact that he'd also just lost a Star Destroyer, a squadron of TIE Fighters and over one hundred and fifty thousand ground troops to a civilization that had barely discovered space travel. It would be hard to defend this loss to anyone, let alone the Emperor. Suddenly, he was thrown off his feet as his flagship also got hit by a missile.

"Damage report!" he screamed, terrified of dying.

"Nothing major sir," said Kobarrn's voice. "We could take another twenty of these with minimal casualties - our deflector shields are effective against electromagnetic pulses. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for our transports. We just lost another one."

The admiral got up slowly and straightened his uniform. "When this barrage is over, they will pay dearly for their defiance!"

***

**Alpha Base, Austrian Alps**

"The smaller missiles had a higher success rate, unfortunately none of the 'continent annihilators' made it through," said President Omaba. "We managed to take out a comparatively small amount of ships, but Captain Peeko says they will be reeling, especially at the loss of a Star Destroyer. Our thoughts are with the Japanese as Tokyo continues to be bombarded from space. There is no doubt in my mind that this is a direct retaliation for our first strike. Bombing our most populated city is meant to make us back down and give up our freedom and independence. We will not let ourselves be bullied by these aliens. We will not be any less ruthless in this war that has just been declared on our very existence. In memory of Major General Francis Harrison, never give in."

The transmission ended, and Moritz looked at his comrades after switching off the radio in their smoking room. No one was speaking. It had officially started, the war was there upon then. What they had been training for during the last month had become a reality.

Alpha base was a gigantic facility inside the mountains in southern Austria. It had been constructed during the cold war and extensively refitted and frantically upgraded in the last three and a half weeks. The reason was simple: it was going to be the main coordination center for European forces, where all the major decisions for military operations on this continent (and possibly others) were going to be made. It really was huge; its most striking feature aside from its surroundings being the protected hangar. It was merely a slit in the side of the mountain to anyone outside, but over a hundred and fifty fighter jets had space inside, far more than Austria's lowly twenty-seven Eurofighters. Five days ago, the Germans and the British had sent over their most advanced ones, so the place was a hive of activity now. The central command room, where Moritz had never been allowed in, featured the most advanced coordination system ever developed on Earth and had been second only to the Americans in incorporating the new planetary communication system adapted by Sergeant Manali for Earthling computers systems. It didn't require satellites, which over the last couple of minutes had all been eliminated. There were enough fuel and gas reserves here to supply the European Alien Repulsion Taskforce for two years, although no one believed the war would go on for that long.

A war, thought Moritz, that he would only be fighting on the sidelines as a translator for the officers stationed here. He knew he was lucky to speak not only German, but English and French as well. He knew he was lucky not to be on the frontlines. However, it hurt his pride, and translators like him were shunned by those guys who had taken the _Arschkarte_, the short straw, and were going to be outside in the coldest winter for a long time fighting an unknown enemy. He just hoped that his contribution would be sufficient for them to win. With that he walked to his office, started up his computer and looked at his work folder. There were fifty documents to translate. _Well, better get cracking, _he thought as he heard fighters launching for a patrol. Just as he was about to begin, his phone rang.

"Private Tanner, report to Brigadier Walter's office. You have been reassigned." said a voice he didn't recognize. Before he could reply, the person on the other end had put the phone down.

He rushed through the endless corridors, all the while wondering what he had done. Reassignment only really happened for two reasons: punishment and request. Not even getting consulted was far more unusual now than it had been in the past. It wasn't far away and before he could make sense of it all he'd arrived. The office door was open so he simply strolled in, saluted and stood at attention.

"Private Tanner reporting as ordered sir," he said simply.

"At ease," replied the Brigadier sitting behind his desk. Moritz complied, spreading his legs a little and holding his hands behind his back. "The others should be here shortly."

Over the next two minutes, six soldiers in a completely different uniforms to his walked in, followed by Zafir who looked as confused as he was. They had British flags on their strong arms and all of them had a tan. Had they just returned from Afghanistan?

"Milovic, Tanner," started the Brigadier, then continuing in heavily accented English. "Please welcome our visitors from the British Royal Marines. They are here mainly to assess the security options we have, make suggestions on improvements and scouting deep within enemy lines when they're not busy with defensive duties."

The two privates nodded in their colleagues' direction respectfully, both of them getting a horrible feeling in their stomachs at what would be said next, especially when no respectful nod came back but just cold, hard stares.

"However, none of them speak anything more than rudimentary German, and they are sure to need interpreters, especially in joint operations with forces from our allies." Their fears confirmed, the two privates dropped their heads. This was not good. "Tanner, I understand you speak French as well as English, whilst you, Milovic, speak Serbian and English - both of you could be very useful. As the only two men I have who have seen any action, I see no other-"

"Action?" interrupted Tanner. "We have not seen action. We were involved in a short gunfight with smugglers and one of our comrades died. This was not action, it was-"

"Do not interrupt me, private!" shouted the Brigadier, silencing Moritz. "You think I haven't thought of that? The fact is that you two are two of a rare breed of soldiers in Austria, soldiers who have ever even needed their weapons. I realize you were hoping for a cushy position after the incident. Well I'm sorry, but mental scarring is the least of our problems right now. I don't know if you've heard, but there's an invasion fleet up there. They're coming soon, so get out of my office, get your _Scheiss _in a bag and report to the barracks up in sector seven!"

The two young men turned and walked away briskly, anger flaring in both of them at the way they had just been treated. The British soldiers had been forgotten and cleared from their minds.

**So, that's chapter 2. I lost one of my two betas this week; would anyone like to get a little insight into whatever happens next before the others on + help me on grammar, spelling etc? Send me a message! As always, reviews please me and make me want to continue!**


	3. Contact

**Chapter 3** - CONTACT!

***

**Quick note: in the second chapter I accidentally changed Zafir's family name. Please forgive me, everything is back to normal now. Last chapter before we get to the real fun bit ;)**

*******

**Airspace West of Alpha Base**

*******

Roman Büschl looked out of his cockpit and waved at his wingman. Behind him there were another twenty-five identical aircraft, the Eurofighter Typhoons having launched almost simultaneously moments after the alarm siren started blaring. As he looked at the blue sky that surrounded him, he had the sudden realization that every working fighter on Earth was probably in the air at that exact moment. The poetic thought made him smile.

"Red Leader this is Red Two," said his wingman's voice over the radio. "Do we know what we're up against yet?"

Büschl sighed before replying. "Red Two stop asking stupid questions," he said as he gave him the finger through the window. "You know as much as I do. According to that Manali guy, those ten big cylinders you can see in the sky at night are all filled with about seventy fighters armed with some sort of laser weapon. All we know for now is that they've all exited their ships and flown a few recon runs around the planet. A lot of them are now positioned in stationary orbit above Europe, but they might strike somewhere out of our range, or not all. I simply don't know."

He didn't show it, but the pilot was frustrated at the Eurofighter's short range. One and a half thousand kilometers counting combat was just not enough. Suddenly the CO's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Attention all pilots. Multiple unidentified bogeys entering the atmosphere at heading North, North East, approximately three hundred kilometers. You are clear to engage, over."

"Understood. Come on _Burschen_, let's form up," said Büschl. "Don't break formation until they open fire!"

The twenty-seven fighters turned slightly to the right and very quickly the streaks of smoke caused by the bogeys entering the atmosphere were obvious.

"Radar confirms lock-on," he said to no one in particular. They were still about one hundred and fifty kilometers away, but in seconds they were going to pass the hundred click threshold and be in range.

"This is Red Leader. Does everyone have a lock?"

Red lights blinked on his HUD in confirmation.

"Fire at will, I repeat; fire at will. Fox one!"

The squadron of TIE Fighters in front of them broke formation, diving down or climbing to the sky as twenty-seven missiles zoomed towards them at faster than the speed of sound. Evidently, they had been surprised by the early attack, as shown by the fact that they hadn't even bothered to fire back yet. Or were they just out of range?

Büschl's missile hit the vertical wing of one of the TIE Fighters, like all of the others that hit their target. It was obvious that the missile caused some pretty hefty damage, as black smoke trails followed those hit, but it seemed that a hit in the side wasn't going to be enough.

"Um, command, this is Red Leader. Phoenix missile not particularly effective, would recommend heavier payloads over agility due to low maneuverability of bogeys. Engaging enemy in a dogfight in ten seconds. Over."

"Thanks for the advice, Red Leader, we'll pass it on," replied the CO. "Don't be reckless. If things look bad, leave immediately. Is that clear? Over."

"Command, I wouldn't worry. See you soon," replied Büschl. "Red team? Go get-"

Debris hit the side of Büschl's fighter as his wingman's plane exploded mere meters away. "Break! Break! What the hell was that?"

"Red leader this is Red five!" shouted a panicked voice as Büschl banked hard to the left. "There were huge green bolts coming from way up! Three and Four went down in one hit too I-"

Static filled Büschl's ears again. The reason for the abrupt end to the conversation was simple: thirty TIE Fighters were now in dogfighting range, firing green laser bolts into the fray as he saw Red Five's Eurofighter tumble towards the ground, ripped in half.

"Red Team report in!" he shouted, chasing after a TIE Fighter and firing his 27mm cannon whenever he was sure he could hit the center. Those things were perhaps not very maneuverable because of the atmosphere and drag, but they weren't slouches. And they didn't seem to have the issue of stalling, like all planes do when they go too slow.

As reports came in and the chaos got worse, it became clear that Austria had just lost over a third of its fighters in the space of a couple of seconds. "Everyone, we're pulling out, this is too hot! Repeat: everyone get out of there! Stay low to avoid the lasers and run! You're no use to the planet dead."

Büschl caught the TIE Fighter's eyeball with his cannon one last time before turning away, disappointed that they didn't even have a single kill. He banked sharply to the right in the direction of home, watching as his target dove down towards the ground. He did so too, hoping to avoid the lasers from space. He was lucky to do so: a burst of green laser flew through the space where he would have been.

"Command this is Red Leader," started Büschl, before continuing more urgently. "We really could do with some sort of help up here? Anything on the way?"

As the words came out of his mouth, he realized that no green bolts were flying by him anymore. He pulled back on the flightstick and hit the gas, the other planes under his command following suit.

"Well done sir," said Red Seven after a couple of minutes. "You probably just got yourself the first confirmed TIE Fighter kill in history!"

"Nope, my missile only struck the wing, and that survived," he replied. "It didn't go down. Besides, we lost ten fighters today, I think celebrating one down when there are over seven hundred still up there is a little premature."

"He wasn't talking about the missile sir," said Red Eight. "You got one with your cannon, I saw it crash as we were leaving."

"Speaking of leaving. Command, what does the radar say about the bogeys?"

"They left as soon as you did Red Leader," said the CO. "I guess, just like us, they wanted to test the waters. Return to base boys, fly safe. Over and out."

*******

**Aboard the Dragonfang**

"Sir, whilst their jets may be fairly weak, they can still punch through our armor," said Kobarrn as he faced Theese. "However, they are especially vulnerable to laser fire. Just one or two hits usually brings them down. We picked up extremely valuable data that we can adapt for our simulators, but the problem of their huge numbers remains. We also tracked the origin of about ninety percent of the aircraft we came up against."

The admiral looked thoughtful for a moment. "What do you suggest we do?"

It still baffled the captain how such an idiot could have come to a position of such power, but he decided, once again, to keep his cool. Looking straight at his Admiral and using every ounce of self-restraint, he explained what anyone with a little bit of sense would have already known.

"We should bomb those positions we have tracked fighters to, sir. First estimates suggest that this would take approximately three days due to their large numbers. They won't be able to defend themselves against sustained fire. Even if we don't destroy the jets, we will still destroy the runways they require. For those bases that are concealed we can send in commandos to take them out. That should assure our air superiority. We haven't encountered AA fire yet, but it would be stupid to assume they don't have the technology. Finally, I suggest we send teams down as soon as possible to recover the five TIE Fighter wrecks. The last thing we need is them acquiring our technologies."

"Of course, of course," replied Theese, stroking his flabby chin. "Your suggestions seem appropriate to me. You may proceed immediately."

"Yes sir," said Kobarrn before bowing and leaving. As he left his commander's office, he felt the blood pumping through his temple.

*******

**Armory, Alpha Base**

"So let me get this straight, muppets. You've never killed anyone?"

"No sir," replied Moritz to his new superior who was standing next to row after row of guns. "I hit the guy in the arm, and Milovic smashed the butt of his rifle in the other man's face. That's it."

"Dear God, why would they give me such greenhorns?" asked Major Stubbs. "Austria has some pretty good commandos, I even lost a contest against them once. Why can't we have one of them?"

"Beats me sir. Apparently they're already committed elsewhere here at base and at other strategic locations."

Stubbs dwarfed Moritz in every way. The guy was over six feet tall, had big muscles and was currently wearing their winter camo gear. It wasn't completely white, because in forests that would stand out if the snow hadn't been incredibly heavy. Instead, little patches of black, green and brown were added. The man sighed.

"Sure, whatever. We won't be traveling to the wreck on foot anyway, so you needn't worry about getting too tired."

"Pandur, sir?" asked Zafir, referring to the APC the Austrian forces used. The eight-wheeler was quick but lightly armed, although the armor could take a bit of a battering before failing.

Stubbs just smiled. "Let's just say that there aren't just disadvantages to being in a commando unit. Now, you two are a bit familiar with your weapons, but frankly it won't be enough for you guys. Don't shake your heads at me, I'm serious here. You will receive the best gear money can buy – in your case, the new Steyr AUG designed with Special Forces in mind."

The two recruits stared open-mouthed as they received the futuristic-looking weapon. Since it was still essentially their gun they were immediately familiar with the way it was held and the basic build was naturally recognizable, but that was it as far as similarities went. It had more hardpoints, and in fact the ones they were holding now had grenade-launchers affixed underneath the barrel. Even the scope was obviously of better quality – actually adjustable for different distances!

"Alright boys," started Stubbs after they'd fiddled around with their weapons, "let's get to the helipads – we're taking the Black Hawks!"

Zafir and Moritz smiled at each other before following, figuring that this probably wasn't going to be so bad after all

*******

Moritz watched, legs in thin cold air, as the four black helicopters flew fast and low across the snow-covered mountains and forests, the occasional village, river or field dotting the landscape. Suddenly, burning Eurofighter wrecks spewing thick black smoke interrupted the actually quite beautiful sight. Taking a last draw from his cigarette, he tried to enjoy Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze that was playing in the chopper to calm his jitters. There was now doubt in his mind that this would certainly be more exciting than clerk work, but also far more dangerous. In all honesty he was terrified: they had no idea what they were coming up against, he had never been under heavy fire, never even killed a man - but they were getting close if they'd passed wrecks. _Scheiße_, he thought bitterly. _I really was better off just translating_.

"Tanner, you'll be with Sergeant Burns," shouted Stubbs over the rotor's noise. "Do as he tells you, and you'll be fine! Milovic, you're with Sergeant Keane."

"Yes sir!" they both shouted, drowned out by the noise.

Moritz looked at Burns. He didn't look like a pleasant man: rough, short looking but obviously able to snap him in half. He also looked less than happy to be saddled with one of the foreign idiots. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done now.

"We're approaching the LZ. You know the objective boys! Secure the area around the alien ship for when the truck arrives. Shouldn't be a problem, no enemy activity's been detected."

Everyone jumped out of their transports as they landed and made their way forward, running from cover to cover and deploying defensively to start with. It was deathly quiet when the Black Hawks were gone again. Moritz yearned for a seat in the chopper again but managed to control his fear, though not his beating heart and shaking. Not only was he scared, but it was also freezing! Breathing heavily through the balaclava that stopped his nose from falling off, he obeyed Burns' order to join him behind a fallen log.

"Movement, one o'clock, forty meters," said someone from the side. "Look civilian."

Stubbs nodded and stood up. "Milovic, come with me."

A short while later, after the two men had talked extensively with the old couple, it emerged they were the farmers who owned this land. Stubbs gathered everyone around into something vaguely resembling a team huddle.

"Bad news," he started. "Imperials have landed and secured the area behind this wood of, erm, Christmas trees, at least he says so. Saw it with his binoculars. No idea on numbers." He paused for a second before continuing. "However, command wants that wreckage, and I'll be buggered if it's our fault they don't get it so we're going in. Milovic, translate this for the krauts, here's the plan."

Moritz hadn't realized, but the other Black Hawks had all been full of Austrian and German troops, not more Brits. He kicked himself mentally for letting easy details such as the guns they were carrying or the flags on their arms slip him by – just because the assault and sniper rifles were camouflaged in white didn't mean they weren't recognizable. He had been so nervous that he'd missed _that_! It also explained why they were needed – Major Stubbs was obviously in command of the mission. Suddenly, everyone stood up around him and ran in all directions. _Verdammt! Why didn't I listen! I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing!_

They entered the forest and everyone continued forward in a crouch, which Moritz copied. He wondered how Zafir was doing, moving fairly quickly in deep snow. Fifty meters before the edge of the clearing they were heading towards, they started crawling through the snow on their stomachs. While Moritz might have laughed at the sight of forty grown men crawling through thirty centimeters of snow any other time, he certainly didn't now, especially because he was involved. Finally, after fifteen whole minutes, they made it to the edge of the clearing. From there, they could look down at the crashed TIE Fighter below, which they took turns in looking at to avoid attracting unnecessary attention. There were a load of stormtroopers picking up pieces of the fighter, a shuttle of some sort and quite a few guard sentries who hadn't noticed them.

"Fifty-two men in white armor of some sort," started Stubbs. "Okay, let's make this simple, like I said. Choose your target and aim for the upper body, it's the biggest target. On my mark... Three,"

Moritz and the others raised their rifles.

"Two."

They all picked a target and took aim.

"One."

Moritz accidentally fired his shot off early, missing by a country mile.

"Jesus Christ, Fire at will! Tanner you muppet!"

Everyone let rip, but by now it was too late. The well-trained stormtroopers ran for cover and returned fire, albeit rather ineffectively due to the distance involved and their blasters' inaccuracy. Slowly but surely, the Earthlings started to make their way forwards.

"Got one!" shouted Stubbs as he hit one square in the chest. It was a perfect hit, but he got up again. "Actually, scratch that. He got up!"

Frustrated reports of similar incidents came flooding in as everyone started to realize their shots had no effect apart from knocking stormtroopers over.

"Pull back! There's no way we can win this!" ordered Stubbs, getting up as he did so.

"Black Hawks this is Bravo-Two-Six!" he bellowed into the radio. "Meet up at the extraction point in five. It'll be hotter the longer you take!"

The ordered retreat was executed perfectly, with the first half falling back and then covering the other as it ran by. It was an effective system and stopped the downright slaughter of running men during a retreat. Some of the seemingly invincible stormtroopers followed them into the woods and kept getting knocked off their feet but got up again all the time. Apart from his first misfire, Moritz hadn't fired a single shot yet, so when he was covering Burns he fired wildly in the closest stormtrooper's direction. Taking aim more carefully, he then decided to aim for the head. Using his improved scope, he took aim at one of the "eyes" and fired a five-round burst. The stormtrooper went down – but didn't get up this time. Someone fired a grenade and took out another two.

"The eyes! Aim for the eyes!" shouted Moritz madly. "Sergeant Burns! Fire at the eyes!"

Burns did as suggested and brought another one down. "Well spotted son!" he said in his South London accent, firing another burst. These drowned out any other noise, but they soon found the edge of the landing zone where they had arrived.

Suddenly, the last three stormtroopers following them were cut down in one go, ripped in half by the minigun mounted on the side of a Black Hawk.

"Alright Black Hawks! You can support us while we get the TIE Fighter secured," said Stubbs into his microphone. "Now that we know how to kill'em, it'll be easi-"

He was cut off by the loud sound of something streaking down from the sky at incredible speed and an explosion coming from the downed fighter.

"Space bombardment! They're cleaning up the mess, let's get outta here!" shouted Price as another huge laser bolt hit the ground closer to their position. "This is what they used to level Tokyo and shoot down the planes! Let's go!"

Reluctantly, Stubbs had to agree and concede defeat for now. However, a battle lost didn't mean the war was.

*******

Back at base, Moritz was struggling to breathe as the strong hand held him by the neck and shoved him into his room's wall, right cheek first. One of his arms weakly tried to fight back, but the other was twisted behind him rather painfully. He heard a whisper in his ears and immediately knew it was Burns.

"Make a mistake that endangers my friends like this again and you're dead," he threatened. "I mean it. If someone dies thanks to your stupidity, I will kill you. You were lucky no one died, and even more lucky you discovered one of their weaknesses. You'll never be Royal Marine standard, but you can get the damned job done when and how we ask you to. This is your one and only warning."

With a final shove, Moritz hit the wall and sank to the ground and Burns walked away. The young recruit coughed and spluttered, shaking as his body regained control and fought for Oxygen. He shook as panic like he had never known before ran through his body.

He must have been on all fours for longer than he realized, because before he knew it Zafir was asking him what was up. Rather than explaining, he decided to lie.

"I thought I was going to die today man. I just nearly chocked on a badly-chewed piece of bread."

_Worst. Excuse. Ever._

Instead of pushing for an answer, however, Zafir just giggled and got on with cleaning his stuff, idly chatting. "Man, that was crazy today! So many bullets flying around. I bet you if they didn't have those damned space lasers, we'd be fine!"

"Yeah but they do," retorted Moritz, "and that's why we're screwed. If they can bomb anything anytime anywhere, whether it's a fast moving jet – admittedly they were traveling in a straight line, but still – or a downed fighter of theirs, I don't really fancy our chances. And, this was just an advanced party meant to mop up a bad pilot's mistake. I'd bet anything within a three hundred meter radius is nothing but a scorch-mark."

Zafir nodded in admittance and looked at his watch. "Oops! We're a little late; let's see if there's another transmission from over the pond, see how they're doing."

The President's voice was indeed playing, so they lit up a cigarette each and listened.

"I am proud of all the pilots who have fallen to defend our freedom. We have truly come across a formidable enemy, one the entire world now must rally against. One even our F-35's advanced targeting system was unable to deal with and one willing to ruthlessly massacre over sixteen million people in Japan."

"Sixteen million?" exclaimed Zafir. "That's twice more than Austria's entire population!"

"However, we can claim two of their fighters here over America, one over China and one was shot down over Europe, who got the first kill," the President continued. "A slow start, but each time we meet the Empire, each time they fire a weapon, we are watching. And we are learning. The more we learn, the more we can show those bastards what we are capable of, and that, people of Earth, is exactly what they fear most. I worry that now, the darkest days in the history of man have arrived. I urge you to pull through and survive. I fear that, as time goes on, some of us will be captured by the enemy. I urge you to pull through and survive. I agonize over whether any of our cultures will be around in the coming years and I urge you, once again, to pull through and survive.

"As a great man once told us all: never give in. And so hear me God I will not allow anyone to do so!"

**I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please be so kind and leave me a review! I love them. Even if they're nasty!**


	4. Landing

**Hey there! If you're still here - thanks for staying with it. These days I don't have much time to update the story anymore, but I do and will as I find time and motivation. Part of the problem, of course, is that I'm having a lot of trouble bringing over the hugeness of what is happening to our wonderful planet, or that writing action scenes can be challenging. I ask you for patience; I have some of the coming chapters started and drafted, they just still need a lot of work to look "right". Leave a comment if you have anything nice or nasty to say!**

*******

**Dragonfang, 1 week after First Strike**

*******

Theese watched the planet he had been sent to take through the command bridge's window. Now his glorious victory was closer than ever before. He could almost taste the blood and smell the burning remains of the pitiful civilization below. Pathetic weaklings. So far, they had caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of his men using cowardly tactics and nuclear missiles, without even meeting them on the field of battle. They had learned their lesson, however: twenty million vaporised corpses and a city turned to glass. The few lost TIE Fighters and men on the ground – most of them killed by orbital bombardment anyway – were of absolutely no concern. He had not given them a moment's thought since that bootlicker Kobarrn had mentioned it.

"Admiral, the last of the bombable airbases have been destroyed. Shall we send in the commandos to deal with the rest?" asked an aide.

"Yes," he replied, "please do. While you're at it, initiate operation 'Dragon's Wrath' immediately. We have wasted enough time as it is."

"Yes sir," said the aide, saluting and leaving in a rush. Invasion was imminent, and he had to get several dozen million imperial troopers onto that planet pronto.

"Captain Kobarrn!" barked Theese.

"Yes**,** Sir!"

"I want you to watch how Commander Rike operates, and remind him not to kill too many people," said the flabby man.

"Of course sir," replied Kobarrn bewildered. "This is what I do during every simulation." _And I doubt he would cause as much devastation as you already have_.

"Not quite," started Theese, licking his lips and grinning madly. "You're going _with _him, and sending me hourly reports. I shall handle things here."

"As you wish," said Kobarrn before bowing and leaving to get his gear. _And you'll slip on the already thin ice you're on. I'll be lurking under it when it breaks, ready to bite off a large piece of your flailing carcass_.

*******

**Rebel Fleet Command ship, Unknown System**

*******

"But I promised them more help! You can't do this to a possible ally that has so much potential!" shouted Peeko, slamming his fist on the table. He glared at the people in front of him, most of all at Mon Mothma, the supposed head of the Alliance to Restore the Republic.

"Know your place, Captain!" barked some general or other. He didn't care right now.

"But I promised-"

"You promised these people something we cannot afford," interrupted Mon Mothma smoothly, "and worst of all you did so without our consent – not to mention the credits you spent to acquire this rather weak information."

The short-haired woman's words stung, but he refused to accept that he had been wrong. Those people had a chance, there were billions of them and so many were obviously warriors! They just needed that little push...

"We have given them a few shield generators, some technicians and a battalion of fine troopers," she added. "How else can a depleted force such as ours help? It was easy when the Empire wasn't there, now our very own men and women would have to shed their own blood to defend a planet no one knows, to break through a blockade just to get a few supplies in. No, I shall not help you, and I order everyone to ignore this impossible and pointless mission."

Peeko just didn't know what to say any more. He had lost. In one, final desperate plea he started begging. "But doesn't it bother you why the Empire is interested in this planet? Why it was deleted off every one of our star maps?"

"No," she replied coldly. "The Empire is constantly invading planets we know nothing about. We cannot face them head-on, not yet. That is all, I expect the matter to be closed."

Peeko left the room dejectedly. Something had to be done, there was no way he would let those people get slaughtered, leave them there waiting for help. They had some, it was true, but it wouldn't be enough. They needed something bigger. He walked into his cabin and threw himself into bed, but instantly felt something was wrong when the door didn't close behind him. Quick as a flash, he had turned and his blaster was aimed at a smiling face.

"I hear there's a spare mega ion cannon or two floating around space these days," said the Hero of Yavin.

Peeko raised his eyebrow. "Oh**,** really? What kind of ion cannon would that be?"

"They're called V-150 anti-orbital planetary defenders," Luke Skywalker said smugly. "And I happen to know where a few might be. And how to get them past an imperial blockade. Are you in?"

Peeko smirked. "Well, that all depends... will we get in trouble?"

"Absolutely yes."

"Then of course I'm in," said Peeko excitedly. "When do we start?"

"On one of the first scouting missions, Rogue Squadron went looking for a Yavin-replacement a few weeks ago, my X-Wing had Hyperdrive trouble and I dropped out of hyperspace in an unknown system," said Luke before pausing. "It was a lonely star with no planets, so I just let R2 do his stuff while I looked around a bit. And there it was: a huge transport, back from the days of the Republic!"

Luke was obviously waiting for Peeko to ask, so the spy did. "And? Did you go in?"

"I hailed it a few times, trying to make contact, but there was no reply," Luke said impassively. "R2 sliced the ship's computer and docked us. It made fixing the ship easier for R2 and I just went for a little walk."

"What did you see? Was anybody still alive?"

"No. The ship was empty, as if everyone had just decided to pack it in and go home. It took me a while to find it, but eventually I got to the bridge and had a look for any holologs, which I found. Apparently it was a Kuat Drive Yards transport, bringing these cannons and other supplies to a Jedi General."

"Have you told the Alliance about this?"

"What do you take me for? Of course I have, but they decided that it was too risky to take it for not much benefit – after all, we don't actually have a base to speak of so just transporting twenty anti-orbital cannons around is just a waste of fuel. I can see their point, but now we know a planet that does need defending – especially from orbit."

Peeko was gob-smacked. The greatest hero of the Alliance had just suggested something that was going to get them court-martialed for sure. "That's all well and good, but that doesn't break the blockade for us."

Luke just smiled, and began talking, and Peeko realized that as crazy as it seemed, the plan might actually work.

*******  
**Earth, somewhere near Alpha Base**

*******

Moritz and Zafir were sharing a French cigarette, freezing in the snow and wind about a mile east of the final defensive ring. They had been reassigned again, this time as runners to give translated orders to the smaller foreign units that were busy finishing off final trenches, piles of sandbags and minigun emplacements. They, and ten thousand other men, had been ordered to give their lives if it meant the withdrawal of enemy forces. No biggie then. At least Burns wasn't there.

"What _zum Teufel _is that?" shouted someone, pointing at the blue sky. Suddenly, Moritz noticed it too. It looked like a huge brown blob, and it just kept getting bigger and bigger.

"I dunno, but I don't like it!" answered a machine-gunner stationed above them.

"Hey, look it's breaking," remarked Moritz. "Wait, that's not one thing. It's... it's a swarm. Like wasps!"

"_Scheiße_, he's right!" shouted another. Loud talking spread through the ranks as people discussed what these ships, if they were ships, could possibly be.

The swarm seemed to expand, spreading itself out until most ships had passed over the horizon in every direction. Then, several white streaks could be seen. They were too small to be identified, but that wouldn't be a problem for long: they were coming down incredibly fast.

"Now what?" asked Zafir confused. "What are they up to?"

Moritz wondered the same. One of the things that had surprised him the most about this empire was that they took their sweet time to do things. Perhaps the nukes had made them think twice about their attack plan. Perhaps – hopefully – they were tactically inept compared to Earthlings who had waged war on each other for millennia? No, that was impossible. No one could rise to power without being any good. There had to be a reason for the enemy's slow progress and it worried him. Not as much as he worried about his siblings, parents or friends but it bothered him. He was about to ask Zafir what he thought when his friend got called to give the Serbs their orders, so instead he shifted his focus to how well the base was defended.

After all, thousands of engineers and military advisers had been busy for the last month and a half, working tirelessly to get everything organized. There were SAM sites, military drones hiding in clouds, remote-controlled minigun turrets that fired bursts of depleted Uranium that could pound their way through any armor man had discovered until now. The whole thing was built up like forts within forts, getting progressively more and more lethal – and he was in the second set of fortifications from the front-line, something that made him feel extremely uneasy. His job was to drive a skidoo to the front-line and back to deliver orders whenever the officer didn't know the language in question.

"I shouldn't worry too much, Private," said his German general, who normally sat a bit further down the trench. "Retreating to Wall B is an almost certainty – the guys in front of us are just there to waste their time and so are we."

"That's good to know, Sir," replied Tanner. It really was – Wall B was the second to last line of defence and had four times as many minigun turrets than his current position. And the wall was made of solid, ten meter thick rock, which certainly felt safer than being in what was basically a field with a little pile of muddy snow in front of him. With any luck the enemy wouldn't notice the frozen lake under the snow either.

The closest white streak, which was now more easily recognizable as a ball of burning something, was about the size of a small car, Moritz decided. He wondered what it was – it seemed too slow to be a bomb of some sort. More like a transport perhaps? Before he could think further, it smashed into the ground about two kilometers away, a thin plume of smoke indicating where it was. Immediately, five German APCs drove by at high speed, clearly on their way to investigate. He wished them luck.

*******

**Stormtrooper TIE-Lander**

*******

"So what is it we're attacking?" Kobarrn asked Rike.

"We're going straight for the jackpot, **C**aptain," answered the officer. He was the guy in charge, leading the men into battle. It annoyed him that Kobarrn had been sent to spy on him; Theese had real trust issues. He did not want to be an admiral. Space wasn't his thing. Now, close combat on the other hand... oh, he could live with that! "It's one of the hidden bases our scanners have discovered. It's in the mountains and looks fairly well defended, we just sent a drone down to see how they react."

"Will it be cold?"

Rike looked at Kobarrn seriously. "Not for long. Wear your armor and you'll be just fine."

The cold, cramped interior made Kobarrn feel extremely uneasy. He really wasn't a fan of landing craft and never had been. Combat as such didn't worry him: he and Rike would be in an AT-AT, and that thing was a serious beast. They were in a mixed task force of stormtroopers and normal Imperial grunts. There weren't enough stormies for everyone, but they would lead the charge after the grunts had weakened the defenses.

"Commander, order to drop received," shouted someone from the front.

"Then, get us down there!" he screamed back.

"Aye, aye, Sir! Commencing descent in three, two, one, punch it!"

The dropship began to whine loudly as they dropped nose-first rapidly through the sky.

"How many dropships are coming with us?" he shouted to the commander who was now strapped in next to him, shaking from side to side as they burned their way through the atmosphere.

"Two thousand men," he started, "plus a few AT-ATs and the like. We've got about two hundred dropships bearing down on the general area of that base. Give or take a few."

Kobarrn thought about this to distract himself from the horror that awaited him if the ship decided to tear itself apart in mid-air. There was silence for a good few minutes until the same voice as before shouted from the front.

"Brace for impacts! Enemy AA fire incoming!"

They could all hear the pieces of shrapnel hitting the side of the ship as the pilot swerved to avoid missiles and flak shells.

Kobarrn was strapped in opposite a window, and he watched as the other ships outside tried to do the same, zooming through the clouds. One lucky hit took off a dropship's wing, making it twirl down out of control. The ship jolted a little bit as one of the gunners fired back now that they were in range. This meant they were getting close!

Moments later, his suspicion was confirmed as the TIE-Lander suddenly straightened up and g-forces made the blood rush down to his legs. A trapdoor opened and training took over as the stormtroopers rushed out.

"Go! Go! Go!" shouted Rike, and he followed him into hell.


	5. Whipcrack

**Apologies for a late update. This is the last action-only chapter for a while, I'm aware that a lot more character development is required. Just be patient ;)**

**'''''''''**

**Alpha Base Defensive Perimeter**

**'''''''''**

Moritz eyed General Köler, wondering what was going through the man's mind. He was tall, white-haired and had risen through the officers' ranks with enough honors to rip his uniform jacket down the left side. Afghanistan, Kosovo, Lebanon, Somalia, Colombia – even Iraq back in the nineties, although that wasn't public knowledge – he'd seen'em all and served with distinction. Now he seemed restless and confused. As if reading his thoughts, the old man turned to him after muttering some orders to a major.

"They're crazy! This makes absolutely no sense," he told the private, shaking his head and looking through his binoculars again. "They're landing slap bang in range of our artillery! It's like watching lambs lining themselves up to the slaughter."

Moritz looked at his superior, a man on the opposite end of the hierarchical structure. "Then let us be the butchers today Sir," he said darkly. He too was confused: he couldn't contact anyone outside of the base. No family, no friends. He'd tried everything, but it was the same for everyone. The lines had either been cut or diverted to prioritize military communications. He had no idea which it was, but it drove him crazy.

Static interrupted any further discussion. It was the small group of APCs that had been sent out to check whatever it was that had crash-landed before the dropships. Moritz listened in on the radio conversation. The voice on the other end sounded rather uneasy.

"Repeat... Some sort of robot... easily taken out with fifty cal... best guess... spy drone... awaiting orders... over."

The general himself strode towards the green and black box, picked up a microphone and spoke. "Roger, Hotel Gamma Six. Secure target, pack it, move to high ground and observe enemy activity. Do not fire unless discovered. Retreat when it gets too hot. Over."

There was silence for a moment, but finally the response came, and Moritz noted that it sounded rather reluctant. "Roger that, moving out. Over."

Meanwhile, the bombardment of Imperials fifteen miles away had begun in earnest thanks to the Howitzers. High explosive shells popped in the distance, causing an unimaginable noise when the PzH 2000s fired from the top of Alpha Base's mountain. They were mean weapons of war, capable of firing between ten and thirteen shells per minute, and there were twenty of them firing right now. With the accurate data the radar had given on landing zones, Moritz could see the concentrated fire landing in specific areas, no doubt causing complete and utter havoc.

"Tanner!" shouted the general after some time, making the private snap out of his reverie. "I need you and Milovic to go out there and check on Hotel Gamma Six. Something happened to our communications with them after they reported massive troop movement from the East. They're obviously jamming our sensors because we've seen absolutely no activity on them. Orders can be transmitted to the Serbs and French some other way, you two have snowmobiles and aren't actually doing much of anything. This is more important – they have pieces of that drone as well as information, and I want both!"

_Oh crap._

**'''''**

**Kobarrn**

**'''''**

There were explosions everywhere and shockwaves traveling through the ground almost constantly, nearly knocking Captain Kobarrn off his feet. They'd landed behind a hill, but soon after they had almost all disembarked the Earthlings had scored a direct hit, blowing the dropship to smithereens. Several men had been caught in the explosion, but right now he had other concerns than helping expendable troops. Such as keeping up with the man he was supposed to be keeping an eye on, and staying alive.

"On me! On me!" shouted Rike to his men, leading them away from the now destroyed dropship into the trees with a wave of the arm. Imperial troopers, the bulk of the Emperor's galactic army, were lightly armored and carried standard light repeaters. Unlike stormtroopers, their faces were not fully covered by a helmet and none of them were clones, all of them mere volunteers looking for adventure and the guarantee of relatively decent pay – compared to what you would earn in a mine in the Outer Rim, at least.

Kobarrn crouched down next to Rike, who was busy screaming into a radio to get some support.

"What do you _mean _you don't have time for us?" he shouted exasperated. "We're getting slaughtered out here!"

"Commander Rike, Imperial forces are in need of orbital bombardment all over the planet. The earliest we can fit you in is in approximately two standard hours." came the reply.

"Sithspit! What about some bombers? Are they all tied down too?"

Rike angrily slammed the receiver down and turned to his men, his years of experience taking over.

"Alright men, it looks like we'll have to do this the old fashioned way. Get to the Walkers and hovertanks and get in them. I think the Earthlings don't like anything armored, but at least we'll survive if we make our way through this No Man's Land without getting killed. Pass it on. Captain Kobarrn, stick close to me and you'll probably be fine. Let's move!"

The troopers gave a cheer and began making their way forward. They were fairly quick on their feet – if there was one thing the Empire trained its soldiers to be, it was physically fit. All of them could run half a marathon and still have enough energy to fight for the rest of the day. And so they ran to catch up with the AT-ATs, AT-STs and hovertanks who had been forced to land closer to the target due to the terrain. The whole operation had obviously been flawed from the start, either because the Earthlings had been underestimated or because of sheer incompetence. Kobarrn swore to himself he'd find the one responsible if he survived this mess.

"Where's the Mobile Command Vehicle?" he asked Rike.

"About two clicks further than us already. If we catch up with it before we or it die, we'll get in. If not, we're staying on foot."

"Contact!" shouted someone when they finally reached the end of the forest fifteen minutes later, explosions far away now. Kobarrn had almost started to enjoy the jog. "Five armored vehicles on the top of that ridge, Sir! Must be scouts of some sort."

Rike looked up and saw them, wondering if they had been seen. "Squads three, four and five: move through the edge of the woods and take them out. Sniper, take out the antenna on the middle one – perhaps that's their comms. Go! The rest: we're going around so that they don't see us and proceeding to the target. Let's move!"

As they sneaked around, the idea that those Earthlings had just missed the chance at opening fire on hundreds of men made Kobarrn chuckle. Rike, on the other hand, was less than happy. It was too easy. However, other than the odd landmine that cost him one or two men here and there, none of his fears about ambushes had came true – they were about to reach the armored divisions who were now in sight. Ten AT-ATs, at least one hundred AT-STs and the same amount in hovertanks. Rike quickly took in the surroundings now that he could see them properly: A completey flat, white field led straight to the base, whilst hills surrounded the approach. It was clear how this was going to work best.

"Walkers through the middle, easy terrain, hover tanks take the sides."

An AT-AT took a Howitzer shell on its rump but it just bounced off the armor, boosting everyone's confidence. "Troopers! Into the AT-ATs or anything else you can get into! Use them as transports and await my order to disembark and storm the base! You, you and you with me in the MCV!" ordered the Commander, pointing at three random men.

The MCV was a large, armored vehicle on eight gigantic wheels. It could pass through any terrain including water, knock down trees half its width, armed to the teeth with laser cannons and anti-personnel turrets covering every possible angle of approach and was incredibly well armored – more so than an AT-AT. It even had an emergency energy shield that could hold for thirty seconds before running out of power and it could fly for short distances. In short: Kobarrn was glad to be inside its cramped interior. Slowly but surely, the assault on the base was beginning as out of the chaotic advance from the landing zones an organized formation of metal, screeching death appeared. The bombardment intensified momentarily, but finally the enemy guns were in range and immediately destroyed by the AT-ATs' opening salvo. Rike had a complete overview of the battle relayed to him by the Star Destroyers above and could order movements simply by pressing on the display with his hands.

"Finally, we can shoot back," said a relieved Rike. "From what I've seen they can't destroy this MCV. Pilot, we lead the charge through the middle and attract as much enemy fire as we can. Understood?"

"Yes Sir." said the driver, happy to crush enemies of the Empire alone.

Kobarrn quickly sent a hastily written report to Theese. That sod could wait for details. The battle was beginning, and as he looked out the viewport he was reminded of the Empire's might. The huge walking beasts, surrounded by what looked like little mice (but actually, simply smaller walkers) running through their legs. The glorious charge of heroes, heroes who were getting the Galaxy in order so that their children could live, safe in the knowledge that nothing could happen. Or maybe it would be their children's children. It didn't matter – he was doing his part.

**Tanner**

_Screw doing my part!_

This was what Moritz was thinking as he and Zafir reached the final gate on their two skidoos. They both had their special forces assault rifles (which they had thankfully been allowed to keep since their first mission) strapped to their back, loose enough so that they could be swung into the shoulder at a moment's notice. Along with a few grenades, they could do some damage to anyone who faced them.

"Let us through. We have to go pick up the stupid Germans who thought they were being cool," grumbled Moritz. The men got out of the way, but before the two privates could set off they noticed something in the distance. Through the thick smoke caused by the Howitzers' fire, enormous walking machines reared their ugly head, firing huge lasers into the mountainside and scoring hits on the artillery.

Zafir was the first to open his mouth. "Yeah, we should probably get moving!"

Moritz agreed and they revved up their engines before leaving at full speed, following the APCs' fresh tracks through the snow. Explosions could still be heard in the distance, but the two soldiers were busy driving as fast as they could, Moritz leading the way. Their completely white bodysuits were only darkened by the skimasks they wore and their guns as they sprayed powdery snow behind their vehicles. The hilly terrain and deep snow would have been fun to drive through were it not for the constant fear of death by laser, and the adrenaline rush was there, but neither could take their minds off the fact that they had just basically been sacrificed. It had definitely NOT been in the contract at the beginning of military service that they would be speeding through extremely dangerous territory on snowmobiles, rescuing idiotic Germans who had gotten lost or killed. Still, the jumps were fun!

Eventually, they reached the presumed drone's crash-site. There was nothing left apart from a black crater in the snow.

"Hey, at least they did their job, right?" said Zafir, smirking. The sound of automatic fire interrupted his almost-smile.

"I guess. Let's find them before it's too late."

It didn't take long to find the APCs. After all, there was black smoke billowing out of two of the vehicles. Not only this, but there was clearly a firefight going on, one APC firing bursts of fifty cal down into the forest, another down the other side and the other three either disabled or completely destroyed. They were surrounded on their little hill, with the occasional burst from assault rifles also fairly visible. Moritz and Zafir were behind six Imperial Troopers giving the Germans trouble by blocking their path and completely oblivious to the skidoos behind. The two Austrians looked at each other, swung out their assault rifles and each took out a grenade for the launcher.

"We've only got one shot. We fire at the same time, burst through with the skidoos, pick up the Germans that are left and get the hell outta there. You got it this time Moritz? Don't fire early this time and aim properly!"

Moritz nodded, still embarrassed about his mistake with the Royal Marines, and loaded the grenade launcher fixed to his rifle's barrel desperate not to mess things up this time.

"On three. One. Two. Three!"

The dull thunk of the grenade leaving the barrel bore little resemblance to the explosion it caused. The imperial troopers were taken completely by surprise, all of them disabled at least temporarily as the skidoos zoomed past, Moritz's crushing a leg. They made their way up the hill very quickly, covered by the Germans who had seen the gap being created. Blaster bolts missed by inches or pinged off the skidoos' meta; Moritz saw one just missing Zafir's helmet, but they got through to cover unscathed. Parking the skidoos between two APCs, they got off and ran to a man in white camo gear leaning against one of the vehicles.

"Corporal! We're here to get you and that blasted machine back to base!" shouted Zafir over the noise.

"So you joined us in our little circle of love? Are you crazy? We've only got wounded inside the APCs!" shouted the German. "We need air support to get us outta here! The few you killed are nothing, there must be fifty of them around us. We're stuck!"

"We have a radio! Maybe we can call in a drone?"

They did just that, and as they did so Moritz looked around and suddenly saw the bodies. There were ten of them, none of them breathing any longer, large holes in their chest, or took all the self-restraint he could muster not to throw up on the spot.

"Drone 233 can see your IR signature. You are almost surrounded by about fifty contacts. Commencing multiple target termination behind you. Get ready to leave, standby thirty seconds." said the Drone's pilot.

The German corporal started shouting at everyone who was left to get into an APC that still functioned – there were two. That left two Germans without transportation, so they jumped on the back of the Austrians on their skidoos, G3s ready to fire.

Twenty white streaks zipped out of a cloud, caused by the drone's homing white Phosphorus mini-missile bay, and covered a large area with burning debris and shrapnel. There would be no survivors in that hellfire.

"Go! Go! Go!" screamed Moritz as the two APCs and skidoos sped down the hill, light fire coming from the sides but quite far away. Nevertheless, the Germans on Zafir and Moritz's backs returned fire as they drove, not really aiming at anything in particular other than the general direction the bolts were coming from.

"We've got some sort of hover-things after us!" Moritz's passenger shouted, green bolts zipping past them and blowing up a tree. Controlled bursts of fire came from the German's G3, but occasional laser bolts still flew by. Worried that he might die, the passenger then let rip in full-auto, making up for his lack of accuracy with almost an entire clip of ammunition.

Suddenly, the enemy was gone and they were getting close to the base, although their view of it was still obscured by forests and hills. What was clear was that there was a rather large battle going on, the sound of explosions constant in their ears. They rounded the corner of the road to base and suddenly had a full view of the battlefield – and did not like what they saw.

The huge walking machines from earlier were now much closer to the first line of defense, firing huge red lasers into the men defending it from about one kilometer away.

"Wait!" shouted the German corporal. "Don't go yet – there is a little surprise for these boys coming up in, oh, around now!"

Indeed: all over the white field the walkers were on, large plumes of what seemed to be water suddenly flew up high into the sky, and deafening cracks could be heard; a different sound from the huge thudding explosions, more like a whip. Moments later, the cracks could also be seen as the frozen lake broke underneath the strain of so many AT-ATs coupled with the explosions deep within the ice's core. Things progressed quickly from then on, huge plates of ice flipping over and burying the massive machines beneath them in the water that had lain hidden beneath the snow. Moritz saw not only the big machines fall through, but the smaller chicken-like walkers were also no match to the power of gravity when combined with broken ice and water. Oddly, they seemed to react to the change in landscape and the machines' legs moved impressively fast to try and regain balance. However, there was absolutely no way it would help.

The men cheered as they watched the spectacle from their vantage point, oblivious to the hover tanks approaching from the side. The lead one aimed and opened fire, destroying the second APC with just one hit.

"_Scheiße! Los! _Go! Go! Let's get out of here!"

A little turret on the front of the tank began firing a smaller, more rapid laser, hitting and melting the side of the other armored vehicle's left flank before it even moved. It wasn't disabled, however, and it roared to life and rushed down the hill firing back, snowmobiles in hot pursuit, everyone trying to get the hell away from the dangerous tanks. Moritz looked back and could see the tank aiming at him, but before it could fire it went up in a shower of sparks. Glowing projectiles could be seen bouncing off it whilst others ripped through. The hover tanks had entered a minigun's range, and when the stream of depleted Uranium stopped its devastating barrage, there was an annihilated tank cut cleanly in half left behind.

With mere meters left to go, Moritz felt his skidoo lift beneath him; thrown off, he landed hard on the ground outside the defensive line, where men and women were busy firing at the approaching troops and hovertanks with a vengeance. Dazed and winded, he tried to get up but was pulled back down to the ground by who he just recognized as his passenger: the German corporal. They were now using the knocked over skidoo as cover. Small blaster bolts were hitting the belly of the machine and luckily not breaking through, but the volume of fire was just too big for them to move at all.

"Stay down! _Kopf runter!_" shouted the corporal. Moritz watched him dig a little hole for himself and decided to copy him. It wasn't easy, but he was ready to do anything to stay out of the hail of death raining upon them. He didn't dare look behind him, too fearful of what was going on.

Meanwhile, the surviving APC and skidoo had made it through, with Zafir immediately hopping off to speak to his friend – who wasn't there – when they got to the command center.

"What the hell happened to the other skidoo?" he asked no one in particular.

"It got hit in front of the gate," replied one of the officers monitoring the fight from the bunker. "Apparently the two men are still alive, but they're pinned down and can't move. However, they will get a chance very soon."

**'''''**

**Kobarrn**

**'''''''**

It was an absolute disaster. The loss of the walkers would have a far-reaching impact, not just in this battle but on those still to come here on Earth and even elsewhere. His hopes of a quick victory against the Earthlings were dashed – these guys were far too cunning. Even if this assault could, by some miracle (say, using that orbital bombardment that would only get free in another hour) break through and destroy this base, the would find ways to harass and bother the Empire for generations to come. If casualties – at least civilian - and destruction had to be limited, as Kobarrn knew, he was going to have to come up with a way of getting them to want to join the Empire. It was going to have to be him because Theese could not do it, and would waste hundreds of thousands of men for every inch of the planet he took over. But this was going to have to wait, because right now they were driving down an almost vertical ice plate, heading straight for the murky depths of a lake.

The MCV's driver, however, knew his stuff. He swerved off the slippery block before the angle got too sharp and landed on another floating plate of ice. Unfortunately it simply cracked beneath the heavy wheight, and the vehicle went under. The viewports went dark, but nobody seemed overly concerned as emergency lights flickered on. Soon, Kobarrn felt his stomach jolt down as the MCV smoothly but sharply began to rise again. It was more than just an amphibious vehicle, it could travel through anything! Their reemergence, however, did not please the locals one bit, at least judging by the hail of gunfire and missiles suddenly fired at them.

"Their slugthrowers are completely useless against this armor, I can't even see those missiles doing much damage," said Rike, unconcerned after the vehicle shook yet again after an impact. Bullets could be heard pinging on the outside constantly. Suddenly, the vehicle gained traction again, pulling itself out of the water and back onto snow. The ice had been completely destroyed by now, only small chunks floating around behind them.

"Sir, speeding vehicles of some sort trying to make it to the enemy's defensive line. Opening fire," stated a gunner through the internal comms.

Kobarrn didn't care. He'd just seen a hovertank get cut in half through the right viewport. As if on queue, one of the tactical advisors began nervously gesturing at Commander Rike.

"Sir! Sir! They have some sort of secret weapon that can take out a hovertank in seconds! Lock alert coming from several positions along the defensive line!"

"Take them out!" shouted the experienced officer, his eyes seemingly bulging out of his head in anger, not fear. It was too late, however.

The sound was like nothing Kobarrn had ever experienced before. It was like throwing a shovel of gravel onto a sheet of iron, just unimaginably louder and terrifying. It came in short bursts, no longer than a second, but since they were still getting closer to the miniguns the intervals got shorter and shorter as more joined in. Kobarrn could see the sparks and bright, molten metal through his viewport.

"Structural damage at the front, Sir! Anti-personnel guns three, four and five out of action, main cannon has been destroyed. Orders?" shouted the MCV's second in command, a young officer with a pale complection and dark hair. Moments later, he actually screamed. "Two front wheels out of commission, _Sir_! Hull breach on deck two-"

The next sound was even more terrifying than the last – it was the depleted Uranium rounds bouncing around the inside of the MCV at incredible speed, causing havoc and piercing through people like hot knives through butter. Luckily for the men inside, however, the vehicles energy shield automatically activated at the point of breaching, allowing only very few projectiles to get through and only killing a few crew members. Most of them were gunners, and the others simple mechanics.

"Pilot, retreat! We're flying outta here!" shouted Rike, finally spurred into action. The man had never seen a primitive weapon so devastating and did not want to be near the guns when the shield went down.

Immediately, dozens of thrusters activated beneath and on the sides of the MCV. Parts moved and suddenly it was flying backwards, over the lake and forest that had been today's battlefield for them. Kobarrn could see the hurt in Rike's eyes – it was the man's first real defeat in his career, and he had seen many, many battles before. It shook the very foundations of what the man had believed in all his career: that the Empire's forces were invincible in the face of any enemy, and especially against those less technologically advanced than them. And yet, they had been soundly beaten by a tactic that sounded like it had been ripped out from the pages of ancient history. There were definitely going to be consequences for this retreat. He considered the hovertanks already dead, if they couldn't escape to somewhere further away, far from the base. They did not have the luxury of thrusters to bounce them away from a battle like some sort of odd insect that jumps from place to place.

Kobarrn himself was less worried about his future. He now had more aces in his hand against Theese than ever before: little girls, the devastation of the fleet, the annihilation of the Earthlings' biggest city that directly went against the Emperor's direct orders and now the utter failure of supporting the ground troops where help had been needed the most. _Oh, this is going to be good. _He didn't really mind that so many Imperial troopers had died today. The Stormtroopers had never advanced and were safely hidden away. It would have been a shame to lose them, but the men who had died today had given the Empire vital information on how Earthlings acted. That was their role. The only real disappointment was the heavy loss of equipment. Sighing as they entered the safe zone, he decided to report the day's events to Theese, although he made sure to make it look like every piece of rotten luck had been a bad decision on Rike's part.

**''''''''**

**Tanner**

**'''''''''**

The hovertanks were fleeing backwards and firing as they went, but the shots were wild and undisciplined. Zafir wanted to go get his friend now, but the Imperial troopers were not running. The ordered retreat was almost identical to the Earthling version, making it difficult for the pursuers to slaughter them. He was about to give up hope of ever getting through when the ground suddenly began to shake constantly. The change from the occasional thump of an explosion was very noticeable, and then he saw something that lifted his heart. Covers were getting pulled away and Leopard II tanks were driving out _of the ground_, hidden beneath the snow as well. Firing armor-piercing shells, they devastated the hovertank lines. Challengers joined the fray, followed by Leclercs and others. _Just how big is Alpha Base really and what else is hidden around here?_

The effect was obvious and it turned the tide of the battle completely. The troopers broke their ordered retreat and simply ran, but where the Earthlings might have shown mercy in the past they certainly did not anymore, many Imps falling to a shot in the back. Zafir used the chance to rush to his friend, who was still cowering behind his skidoo. By now, it was nothing more than a hunk of molten plastic and metal, but it had held against the repeaters.

"Moritz! Get up," he started. "It's pretty-much as safe as it's gonna get!"

Moritz looked up and saw his friend's smiling face and a hand reaching down. Looking down at his former passenger, he wondered why he hadn't moved. He patted him on the shoulder, but he didn't budge, so he turned him around. The corporal's face was gone, replaced by a charred mass of flesh. He immediately vomited on the side and coughed and spluttered despite the roar of the cannons in the background. He was sick of this. Sick of the horrifying reality of war, sick of death, but most of all sick of the heads of people that he knew being turned unrecognizable due to weaponry.

Zafir himself had to stop himself from joining in the bile-fest and instead picked up his comrade, supporting him as he tried to walk. It turned out that Moritz's foot hurt, which he hadn't noticed before. Presumably that had happened when the skidoo got hit. He couldn't remember, and it didn't matter.

As they crossed the gate into the defensive perimeter they were suddenly struck by how much activity there was. And then they remembered: they had been on the front line, even though they had been originally been assigned to the second. All these people milling about cleaning up had been _hiding the entire time_. A Serbian officer Zafir knew well as a family friend noticed the two men hobbling along through the devastated area and came to pat them on the back. A quick exchange of words, a shaking of hands and they moved on to the newly constructed medical tent, but all along the way other men they barely knew came and did the same. One man, his face and hands covered in blood and bandages, came to shake their hands and thanked them profusely. Only then did they notice the German flag on his white uniform. He had been in one of the APCs. The Serbs had also been on the front line and had surely deserved the respect of the others, and more importantly the right to go back two lines of defense now. It was how the rotation worked, and they had volunteered to be the first to fight, along with – surprisingly perhaps, considering their reputation as surrender-monkeys – the French and the Belgians, Luxembourg and Switzerland adding their men to the mix. Men and women who had given it their all in a fierce firefight, and now they were in for a well-deserved break.

Finally, they arrived and a junior medic was immediately on call to check on Moritz's foot. Zafir dumped him on a stool that leaned against some sandbags and watched the careful untying of his friend's boot. Around them, soldiers groaned and whimpered as their more serious wounds got treated - most of them blaster burns. Moritz seemed more concerned with a search through all of his pockets.

"_Scheiße_ where are they?" he muttered, patting pockets over and again. "Oh come _on_! I must have lost them in the crash!"

Zafir pulled out a red, soft packet of Gauloises cigarettes and handed them to Moritz, who had been visibly shaken by the day's events. He was thanked with a look, and the soldier blew the strong smoke with a sigh of relief. Noticing his friend's helmet had gotten lost somewhere along the ride and the gunpowder, dirt and dried blood on his face, Zafir knew that the makings of a tough bastard were in this guy, and that they together would face some pretty tough times. They were going to have to rely on each other more than they had realized.

"Officer in the room!" shouted someone near the tent's entrance. Zafir immediately sprang to attention, and Moritz tried but instead swore loudly into the silence as he put pressure on his damaged foot before sitting down again. It was General Köler.

The big man looked amused rather than offended and slowly made his way through the tent's patients, thanking them all for their bravery and contribution so far, but reminding them that there were tough times ahead. Finally, he got to the two men he had actually been wanting to see.

"Privates, I have good news for you. In recognition of your sensational achievements, and your role in today's historic victory, I hereby promote you both," he began. "Tanner and Milovic, you are now both Corporals. Congratulations, and God bless you both. You went above and beyond the call of duty today. I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

The two were shocked. They did not want to get promoted, much less want anything to do with the man who had just essentially sacrificed them. However, they managed to hold their tongues to themselves, although Moritz managed to continue smoking his cigarette as he was getting promoted, giving the general a vile look.

Köler continued, presumably oblivious to the death-stares he was receiving. "I hear you two went on a mission with some of the more... colorful British troops we have here? Well, you'll be glad to know: I arranged your transfer back to their unit. I felt it was the least I could do to thank you."

A cigarette slowly span as it dropped on the wet floor and extinguished itself with a hiss, the mouth that had held it opening wide in shock.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

******Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. And yes, the battle tactic is INDEED from the ancient pages of history (sort of) - who can tell me which one? Minus points for saying it was in the movie "Arthur". Leave a review to tell me what you thought of this chapter! **


	6. Fuel

**Sorry it's been so long, boys and girls, you know how it is. I quite enjoyed writing this chapter – as usual some half-truths frommy own time as a conscript. Enjoy and please leave a review!**

**''''''''''''**

**Above the Sahara**

**'''''''''''**

The spaceship was losing speed far too quickly, he was too low and despite his best efforts he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it for much longer. It was swinging from side to side now as he fought the controls, willing them to do what he wanted with all his strength. He took a quick moment to wipe the sweat from his seemingly permanently tanned face, a remnant of life on his home planet. His ship was sputtering thick black smoke from the four engines at the back and several scorch-marks were definitely noticeable along the sides; clearly, he needed a solution, and pronto.

Suddenly, a structure could be seen in the distance, a building – the pilot's heart filled with hope at the realization of a safe haven. After all, the Empire was busy elsewhere on this impressive rock. As he got closer however, he got a clear clue that he had been wrong: anti-aircraft fire was quickly upon him, finally disabling controls and forcing it to go directly for the building in question. As he started to lose consciousness, the pilot just managed to pull up over the square house, violently bouncing off the roof and completely ripping out the communication dish.

**''''''''''''''''''''**

**The Dragonfang**

**'''''''''''''''''''**

"Let me remind you of the position that you are in," spoke the hooded Emperor's blue hologram. It was made all the more terrifying by the fact that all it displayed was the slow, clear moving of his lips. "You have sustained massive losses, have direct control over not one single entire continent, not investigated the rumors of old hyperdrive signatures from before your arrival or even managed to block a rebel strike force from breaking through the blockade, and you dare to ask for reinforcements?"

The harsh words felt like daggers to Theese. Sharp, unjust daggers. It wasn't his fault; he was surrounded by imbeciles and incompetent fools, not to mention severely lacking in manpower and weaponry. He even had a limited amount of orbital strikes he was allowed to use in a sneaky way of limiting damage to the planet's surface, and the Emperor was angry at him?

"My lord, if you would but let me pound the enemy into the dust there would be no problem. The difficulty stems from your refusal to let us damage much, if anything," he said, confident that his reasoning would work. Feeling on a roll despite his predicament, he continued. "If you sent us more men... it really would allow us to complete this mission more swiftly."

The Emperor was quiet for a moment, and even seemed to look pensively away for a moment before he chuckled, sending shivers down Theese's back and making him shift his weight from foot to foot. "Yes, you shall have your reinforcements. They should be with you in a little while. Keep up the _good work_.""

With that, the hologram disappeared and left Theese the same way as it always did with this particular conversation partner: sweating, terrified and almost hyperventilating. He tapped his desk a few times, swiveled around on his chair and looked out at the stars, smoking his Twilekk pipe. What had that rebel strike force been? Several X-wings had distracted the defenses on the far side of the system for so long that, at the last minute, his men had only just noticed the Corellian freighter and one-ship escort entering the Earth's atmosphere. All ships who had been sent after it hadn't reported back, so it was safe to assume they were gone. What had that been all about? How did they know about the system or even where to land on the surface? Jamming systems had made it impossible for his sensors to pick anything up at all. In fact, he'd neglected to mention one thing to the Emperor: he had no contact with his troops on the ground at all. _If he finds out, I am a dead man._

"Kobarrn!" shouted Theese, preparing to indulge in his favorite hobby at the moment: driving his assistant insane.

**'''''''''**

**Alpha Base**

**''''''''**

"Hey, you wanna know what's weird?" asked Moritz as he put the new sheets on his mattress – of course, he had the top bunk.

"What?" came the predictable reply, lazy and tired sounding. Zafir, unlike his slightly chaotic and disorganized roommate, had done his when the sheets had first been issued that morning.

"We haven't actually known each other that long. I mean, basic training started when? October? Yeah, exactly, I don't know jack about you. Who are you? I mean yeah, we had those long discussions on our walks, but what do you think of all this shit? I haven't even really thought about Ahmed since we got here because I just forced the issue out of my mind and we've been _really_ busy but... man, he's dead. He's the second guy I've known who's died. First one was a friend in Afghan..."

"Afghan as in Afghanistan?"

"Yeah some Brit soldiers call it that... He got hit by an RPG in some patrol vehicle. He survived that, but then they came down from their hill and shot him and the rest of the squad as they crawled away from the wreckage..." Moritz' voice trailed off as he remembered reading the report on the BBC site. He had cried for hours, looking through pictures of his dead friend on facebook. However, Ahmed's death had been different, and that of the German soldier and the others differed even more.

"Bastards. I bet you the Imps would do that too though," said Zafir. _Or worse,_ they both thought bitterly to themselves. "Ahmed was a good guy," he continued after a while, "and damn it we could use someone like him to brighten the mood up a little bit, you know?"

There was another pause as they both thought of their dead comrade's antics and trouble-making.

"Remember that time he imitated Warrant Officer Stumpel's super-deep and slow voice through the radio, and never got caught?"

It had sounded something like a walrus on the other end, where half the company had heard the imitation and laughter had broken out through the ranks in instant recognition – as it did now with the two soldiers.

"Haha, that was great," replied Moritz as they calmed down a little. "But nowhere near as good as when he convinced Georg that the alpine shit-eating snake really exists!"

The story didn't need repeating. The memory was more than enough to send them over the edge, tears of laughter streaming down their faces. Ahmed had spent an evening at a field exercise convincing one of the more gullible members of the team that a beast existed in the Austrian woods. This beast crept up behind you when you were relieving your colon in a secluded spot and ate your fecal matter before it hit the floor – so that when you turned around, it would be gone. A few smuggled shots of vodka later, at around two in the morning Georg needed to do said business and announced it loudly for all to hear, having long forgotten the idiotic tale. Unbeknown to him, Ahmed had followed him into the darkness armed with a pair of nightvision goggles and his spade. As Georg squatted and curled one out, Ahmed overcame his disgust and caught the turd with his spade before it was too late, then slowly and silently crept away again. The screams as Georg had wanted to check his hard work with his torch had woken up the entire camp, the bottle of vodka had had to get swiftly hidden beneath a log and Ahmed had sprinted away, laughing gleefully at his fantastically executed prank.

Through tears, Moritz still managed to speak as he gasped for air. "And- and- Georg went to every single person for a week, including- including Colonel Greimer! Telling them he'd been a victim of the _turdburglar_!"

The roars of laughter started again, eventually even attracting the attention of a Sergeant Zafir recognized as having been in the same barracks as they had been. He didn't seem to remember, nor was he impressed with the noise so the two struggled to regain their composure as they stood at attention in their underwear, faces bright red.

"What's so funny?" he barked angrily.

"We're just mourning the passing of one of our comrades, sir." Zafir said, not realizing how inappropriate it looked.

"You're mourning him by laughing? Give me a better excuse. Where are the drugs?"

"No sir, really. That's how he'd want it. He was the turdburglar..."

The Sergeant's frown turned into a booming laugh, the memory of the fresh recruit trying to tell him about the Alpine shit-eating snake coming back to him. This then attracted the attention of neighboring rooms, the people in them coming to check what was so funny. Those who recognized the story - or the ancient military prank – laughed whilst the others had it explained to them and joined into the pleasant atmosphere. Quickly, a crowd formed and people, regardless of rank or nationality, started exchanging funny stories long into the night, the first and probably last real stress-free moment for a while.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The next morning they were ordered to report to the briefing room, where they met Major Stubbs.

"I'm told you enjoyed your time with us so much that you asked a good friend to send you back," grinned Stubbs as he looked at the two nervous privates. _No, corporals, _he corrected himself_. What they did was completely crazy and they deserved the promotion. _The two had, once again, been transferred elsewhere – in this case, back to the supposed Royal Marines, although Moritz was starting to have his doubts about their true unit. There wasn't even an entire platoon of them at the base, for goodness sake.

"Well, actually we didn't ask to be sent back here," said Zafir. "Köhler just decided we deserved to be with you guys, instead of somewhere safe where we at least have a slim chance of survival." He made no attempt at hiding his disappointment or bitterness.

Stubbs thought for a moment. "That's irrelevant to be honest. He transferred you, I accepted. Both of you," he emphasized, looking at Moritz. "I think you both show promise, I've read your files. You two aren't as innocent as you pretend you are, and you both participated in the crash course for that Basic language, something none of us did. You'll be useful."

Moritz remembered the course – it had taken a week, wearing an odd helmet in a lecture theater hidden deep within Alpha Base before it was anywhere near finished. Either the language really was incredibly basic, or he'd essentially learned another language in a fraction of the time it normally would have taken him. He'd been put on the course in the assumption that he'd be filling translation duties, but instead he'd been shot at, blown up and hurt his foot, not to mention lost an entire packet of red Gauloises cigarettes – those things were already white and brown gold in these parts. At least he'd been on leave since that terrible first day due to his now healed foot, and Zafir had been on the back line in subsequent defenses of the facility. No assaults were anywhere near as bad as the first, the biggest danger coming unannounced from above. Today, there had been no bombardments.

Now, they stood before Major Stubbs, probably one of the toughest people they'd ever met, with similarly deadly people behind him. Moritz only once caught a rather poisonous glare from Burns, the sergeant looking away the rest of the time. They were ordered to sit down with the others, and for the next ten minutes idle chit-chat continued as the room slowly filled with other tough-looking men, some even carrying obviously futuristic weaponry and armor. They were not speaking. _Should I go speak to one of them? No. They'll just ignore me._

Eventually, General Köhler himself walked to the front, immediately gaining the attention of all those present by tapping the long stick he had on a desk and clearing his throat before speaking in his soft, accented English.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to discuss the mission that is at hand. As some of you know, today we received a very special weapon from the Alliance. Unfortunately, they could not provide the adequate radioactive fuel for the machine: any enriched nuclear matter, like what is used in power plants. On top of that, they lost one of their star pilots in the area we know as Mali."

He paused as Captain Peeko quickly added, in Basic for those that spoke it: "It's Skywalker, the hero of Yavin. He has crashed somewhere out in a desert, and we need to get him back."

Köhler continued. "Unfortunately, one of the first things the Empire did when they landed was take control of the infrastructure, and nuclear power stations in particular are heavily guarded. One group will have to conduct a large-scale assault on the nearest one, which as you may know since Austria doesn't use nuclear power is located in Italy, whilst the other will fetch the Alliance pilot from Mali. Any questions before I go into detail?"

Expecting none, he was about to continue until he saw a hand waving excitedly in the crowd of faces. "Yes?" he said, pointing his stick.

"Won't they just bombard the hell out of us from orbit? Or send thousands of men as reinforcements?" asked someone to the general agreement of all the Earthlings present.

"No," answered Köhler. "At the moment we're using a very powerful jamming device to stop all communications from the ground to the top, and preventing their sensors from picking up anything on the ground. Unfortunately, it takes them an average of twenty-four hours to crack the encryption, so we're running out of time. These things are one-time use only!"

"How much enriched nuclear fuel do you need, sir?" asked Moritz.

Köhler turned to Peeko and whispered, and after a brief moment he turned back towards the Corporal. "Only very little, in actual fact. The generators their weapons use are far more advanced than ours. Why, Tanner?"

Moritz didn't want to sound stupid, but figured he was already considered a fool by everyone for his faux-pas during the retrieval of the downed TIE anyway. "There is one working nuclear reactor in Austria, it's used by the physics department at the university of technology. I know for a fact that they have some in storage. If we're lucky, the Empire hasn't noticed it yet."

Suddenly, everyone turned to Moritz. _Aha, not so stupid now, huh? _

"Do you really think we didn't consider this option, Corporal?"

_D'oh!_

"Radioactive fuel is a very closely controlled commodity. In the month leading up to the invasion it was all registered fuel was removed and sent abroad. Any other clever ideas?"

A triumphant look came across Moritz's face. "Sir, I know Professor Epstein personally, and I can tell you that over the last thirty-odd years he's been collecting small samples of weapons-grade Uranium, Plutonium or whatever every month. He's my godfather, he showed this stuff to me. Well, the boxes anyway. It's five floors down if you take the lift, and straight ahead from there."

Gobsmacked, the Köhler thought for a moment before speaking. "Well, I sincerely hope your godfather didn't bullshit you, because if he did we're all dead."

**''''''''''''**

**Outpost #233, Northern Mali**

**''''''''''''**

The Imperial officer was a tall man who had had it all at some point – an unfortunate incident involving an one of the Emperor's elite bodyguard and a broken nose had cut his career short however, so here he was in one of the most inhospitable parts of this godforsaken planet with a rebel pilot tied to a chair. He knew there had to be more to his task here – after all, they were the only outpost in the desert – but he had been kept in the dark.

"I'm sorry we have to resort to such... primitive methods of interrogation, but unfortunately time is of the essence and it's rather hard to get your hands on a good truth serum in these parts. So I'm asking you again," he said as he strolled around the young man, "how did the rebels find this planet? I'm no fool, I've checked the maps. Officially, this planet doesn't even exist."

The pilot leaned back in his chair, the blood oozing out of his nose more obvious now. "I'm not saying anything to anyone," he said as his nose squeaked through broken bone, "and neither are you. I made sure of that when I arrived – your comms are out."

The smirk on the blue-eyed pilot's face was too much, and Lieutenant Berku punched him in the gut, eliciting the cry of pain he was looking for.

"Insolent swine," he growled. "It won't be long until they notice we're gone. Then, they'll send a team down and I'll be promoted back to where I belong. I think I know who you are! You're the supposed hero of Yavin!"

This news shocked Skywalker, and his untrained reaction told Berku all he needed to know. He had guessed right. Victory was his, the throbbing pain in his knuckles was worth it.

Moments later he was picking himself up off the floor, a violent explosion having knocked him off his feet. There was dust everywhere and he'd lost sight of his prisoner – worse, he could vaguely see a new light source coming from where a wall had been before. Pulling out his blaster, he rushed to it. Why had there been no alarm? Normal rebel troopers weren't that good, and they didn't really have many commandos. It didn't matter that he only had fifty men out here, there should have been _some _clue to what was going to happen.

Peeking out of the hole, he saw an old republic LAAT/i lift off with the damaged X-wing tied beneath it and his now former prisoner hanging on to an outstretched arm.

"Not so fast!" he growled, taking careful aim with his blaster pistol.

However, before he could shoot, a bullet impacted right next to his face in the wall. There had been no sound, just the little pieces of concrete flying into his face and a hole where the shot had impacted. _Guess that explains how they killed everyone. Long-range silent weapons – I thought all that lived here were basically Tusken Raiders on humpbacked beasts? I think I'd rather hide though._

**''''''''''''**

**Vienna**

**''''''''''''**

It was the very definition of chaos. Every nation on Earth had used the comms blackout to launch counter-attacks, and Austria was no different. Thousands of civilians were rising up against the invaders, the streets filled with bodies, small groups of Imperial troops desperately trying to survive, wondering why they weren't getting any help from above against these often disorganized mobs. Moritz could only stare open-mouthed at the carnage as the small column of Pandur II APCs zoomed past. Occasionally they'd fire a few rounds into some Imperials in a kind of drive-by, but this was almost unnecessary: the unbridled rage of the people knew no bounds, and they were getting more and more backup from 'official' troops. It was night time, but the glow of the many fires in Vienna and elsewhere lit up the sky in a bright orange hue.

"Sweet Jesus," said Stubbs, breaking the silence. "Have you noticed how the buildings are almost all still standing?"

He was right; this didn't compare to the devastation in Baghdad that they'd seen in the news or, in some cases, experienced.

"It makes sense if all they want to do is invade," replied Zafir eventually, "I'd do the same. What's the point of taking over a devastated planet? All you'll have to do is rebuild!"

They were getting close to the university of technology now, having just driven past the national opera. It was intact, a simple brick wall built around it in the month before the invasion making sure of that. It was the first time this had happened since World War Two.

"Okay boys, you know what to do," said Stubbs in anticipation, readying his rifle. The excitement could clearly be heard in his voice – he lived for this kind of thrill. "Follow Tanner, cover him, guard the gates. Kill any Imperials on sight. Milovic, remind Peeko!"

Zafir turned and translated the orders into Basic, the Captain nodding his head in understanding.

"Thirty seconds!" shouted the driver in heavily accented English, tension rising in his voice.

Tanner realized that these moments were in some ways the worst as the fear gripped him once again. _No! Not this time! I'm NOT screwing up this one._

"Go! Go! Go!"

Fifteen minutes later and without any incidents, the big soldiers had broken into the nuclear laboratory five floors beneath the surface and were busy loading suitcases of radioactive fuel onto a cart when the lift doors opened and Tanner ran out, quite obviously agitated.

"The Imperials have cracked the encryption already! We don't have much time before Vienna turns into a complete war-zone! Command's sent us an airlift outta here, they should be here any minute now!" he shouted, passing on the message Peeko had given him.

"Alright lads you heard him!" Stubbs called, clapping his hands to get them to hurry up. The last case was soon on the trolley and they pushed it into the lift, the university's emergency power keeping it going.

As they arrived outside, they watched the sky get even more lit up than it was before as tracer rounds raced towards dropships and bombers the Empire was sending down to deal with the mess that had happened in the last twenty hours. The APCs had already left, although Peeko had stayed behind. He wanted to make sure the stuff they'd acquired would work. A quick scan with his glorified Richter scale and he nodded as the technical readout appeared on his screen. Perfect stuff!

The Chinook helicopter was there moments later, escorted by two Eurotiger assault helicopters that swooped around them to cover the retreat. And not a moment too soon. Just as they started loading their objective into the long, double-rotored chopper three AT-STs and a squad of stormtroopers arrived at the scene, a suspicious battle surveyor having noticed the quiet in that area of the city. Tanner, Peeko and Stubbs immediately took cover and opened fire along with those Royal Marines who weren't busy trying to get the trolley into the machine.

At that moment the AT-STs were luckily busy trying to shoot down the Eurotigers, their missiles causing heavy damage to their armor.

"Come on!" shouted Burns as the trolley finally slid into the back of the Chinook. "Let's get out of here!"

The soldiers carefully made their way towards their ticket out of the tense situation before sprinting and jumping in as the transport began to slowly take off. Peeko was the last to go, his hatred for stormtroopers affecting his judgment slightly as he enjoyed the death of yet another. Moritz shouted, and he finally turned and ran, but by now the helicopter was too high.

"Take hold of my legs!" shouted Moritz to his neighbor as he started leaning down over the rear loading ramp, fear gripping him once again. He took the unnamed man's hand and lowered himself because he didn't want to leave anyone behind. Soon he was dangling dangerously low, stretching his fingers for Peeko as they started moving away from him. A massive explosion signaled the demise of a Eurotiger and the pilot accelerated, worried that they would all die. A stray blaster bolt hit the man Moritz was holding onto, causing him to fall two meters to the ground and roll, just as the Eurotiger managed to take out the last AT-ST.

Peeko picked him up and he looked back. _Oh nein._

**Thanks for reading! If you'd be so kind as to leave a review, I'd be incredibly pleased.**

**I'm down to one Beta-reader again. If anyone else also would like to get involved, send me a PM!**


	7. Underground

**Yeahyeah it's been a while again. I'm sorry if you're disappointed at the amount of time between chapters, but I'm slow and it's the summer holidays and I have a job. Also, my beta has either disappeared or is on holiday himself, so I've tried my best but mistakes have probably slipped through. **

**Anyway, back to the story. We pick up where we left off!**

The four stormtroopers left had them – there would be no escape this time. Peeko noticed the curly-haired Earthling look at him and nodded back in appreciation. _It's alright kid, you tried your best to save me. It ain't your fault _thought the rebel agent. He'd been sure they'd leave him behind when he saw the thing lift-off, and they were right to do so, but suddenly there had been the kid's hand stretched out towards him, and then half the body right up until the point he was hanging outside the machine completely. Unfortunately, a stray shot had hit the man holding him and he'd fallen out. _These guys fit perfectly into the rebel alliance: help whoever needs help, no matter where they from or how long you've known them as long as they're on your side. _

"Hands up!" shouted one of the white-clad tinheads. "You're our prisoners now. Walk. This way – we'll follow. And don't try anything stupid or we'll cut you down." His voice betrayed a small hint of anger as he pointed in a direction with his blaster rifle; understandably considering they'd lost their armored support and quite a few men lay scattered around, killed by explosions, rifle fire and the choppers' guns.

It was somewhat surreal to be walking with your hands in the air through a warzone – tracers were still going up into the sky, they even heard the occasional scream – but the stormtroopers seemed unfazed, clearly having done this kind of thing before. They were making their way through what he assumed was a shopping area of some sort: bright signs begging for the passer-by's attention, odd animals and incomprehensible phrases blazoned across walls and shop windows filled with clothes, primitive screen technology and toys. Occasional smashed windows, blaster burn marks and bulletholes seemed to indicate that this had been a contested area until recently. There was also row after row of abandoned wheeled vehicles, and Peeko wondered if the kid could drive.

Suddenly, the kid stopped, turned and shouted in basic. "Stop! I was wondering if I could ask you a favour, invader."

"We don't do favours, now move!" came the terse reply, but the kid didn't budge despite the blasters aimed at his face.

"Look," he said, pausing to take a deep breath and pointing to a vending machine attached to a wall. "I'm dying for a smoke. If one of your men could shoot the machine open over there, I would take a packet and I'll do whatever you want. I'm addicted, and my body doesn't function without it."

The Imps looked at each other perplexed and Peeko had to stop himself from laughing out loud. He'd seen cigarras like these all over the galaxy, and they were no more vital to the correct functioning of the body than alcohol. However, the Imps clearly weren't so sure, and perhaps considered it a vital piece of intel to pass on to the brass. If they'd found one of the planet's population's weaknesses, they could avoid death.

"Alright," came the eventual reply. "You two," said the superior pointing at two of his subordinates, "take him there, get those blasted drugs out and come back. We'll look after this other guy. Go!"

Moritz walked up to the machine and waited for them to blast it open. Two red bolts and a shower of sparks later, the metal door swung open and he was greeted by the sight of an entire carton of his favourite red Gauloises. _Bingo_, he thought, taking off his small pack, emptying its useless contents (such as clothes, rain gear and other such nonsense) and stuffing the cigarettes in, apart from one packet which he immediately opened. There was a nervous moment as he searched his pocket for a lighter, but he found it quickly enough.

"Activate your rebreather," said one of his guards to the other as the Earthling lit up. "We don't know what's in that, and I'm not spending the rest of my life looking for it! Now come on let's go, this place gives me the creeps. It's another half a click to base."

They didn't see the brief hand signal pointing to the floor Moritz gave to the rebel agent before all hell broke loose. The two prisoners dove for cover has red hot blaster fire combined with bullets tore through the stormtroopers' armor and killed them all before they knew what had happened.

Peeko looked up to where the gunfire had come from, men and women pointing their still smoking barrels through high windows along both sides of the street. Mortiz got up and patted himself down to check everything was still there and picked up the barely lit cigarette, taking a deep drag, satisfaction flooding his face. He looked back at the confused captain and grinned, slowly making his way towards him.

"_Servus, _my dears!_" _called a man in greeting. "What brought you six here? Sorry, but your friends weren't invited. Come on, follow me."

**''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

**Abo****ard the Dragonfang**

**''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

Kobarrn took a second to take in his surroundings. The incessant flurry of activity since they'd cracked the jamming encryption and sensors were back online was distracting. Men ran from console to console carrying datapads of orders, there was never-ending chatter as back-up units were sent down to the planet or bombing runs approved. These were some of the Galaxy's finest, he decided, and soon they would have someone better than Theese to look after them: him.

"Sir!" shouted a man from behind. "We have a report that three men speaking Basic have been captured on the surface. One was apparently the Hero of Yavin but has already escaped, the others were caught in an area relatively near one of the enemy command centers. We've lost contact with the unit taking those two back to base too. Interestingly, one of them was clearly an Earthling."

_The Hero of Yavin? What is he doing here?_ "Thank you," replied the captain. "I shall be going down to the nearest POW camp in that area very soon. Maybe someone down there knows something."

Kobarrn thought of the glory this could bring him – it would finally tip the balance completely in his favour if he managed to capture the rebel icon. _I can't let Theese find out. I'll report this matter to the Emperor myself, _he thought as he walked back to his office. A terrible smirk appeared on his face at the realization that he was so close to victory.

Moments later the blue hologram stood before him, staring impassively as it spoke.

"I trust your encryption of these communications and the fact that I am talking directly to you makes you realize the extent of my expectations here," rasped the Emperor. "I have already sent... appropriate back up. If Theese is as clueless about this as you say, it could work to your advantage. Loyalty and obedience will get you very far, young captain. You will report the findings of your interrogation of the prisoners directly to me as soon as you are finished. I shall instruct you on the manner in which you shall proceed. Understood?"

"Yes my Lord, it will be done."

"Good," said the Emperor after a pause, before vanishing.

Kobarrn was in awe. He had just spoken to the Emperor himself! The man who was putting order back into the galaxy, making it possible for trillions of humans to live safely without fear of getting killed by ruthless thugs or, Force forbid, other species. He was going to accomplish his mission and get every last word out of anyone who knew anything down there – and if that didn't work, he was sure he would find a way to make it an interesting option for someone to tell him. There were more possibilities than simply truth serums and torture.

His first task, however, would be convincing the admiral to let him down to the planet's surface again. The last time had been on the disastrous assault on that base that was _still _holding out fairly easily against their assaults. The problem was that they were so frustratingly deeply entrenched; even the Empire's mighty war machine had trouble targeting a single mountain for destruction.

Knocking on his superior officer's door and waiting to be called in, he prepared himself mentally to control the upcoming rage.

"Ah! Just who I wanted to see!" boomed Theese excitedly. "I need you to go down to the planet's surface and investigate the matter with the rebel ships that landed. You're one of my best and smartest men Kobarrn!" _Too smart for your own good, I won't add. I'm not sure what you're up to, but I'd better get rid of you before it gets too late._

"Of course sir, we wouldn't want an incompetent fool to lead such an investigation." _Such as yourself, perhaps?_

**''''''''''''''''''**

**Cellars near the Vienna Underground stop Neubaugasse**

**''''''''''''''''''**

"The situation is fairly critical now that they have reinforcements," explained the leader of the block's resistance, leaning over a paper map. "The Empire has control over every bridge connected to the city now, and have developed impregnable positions here, here and here."

He pointed at positions on the map that Moritz recognized as specific crossroads and landmarks, such as the parliament they had driven past a few hours earlier. One of them had been the Western train station, presumably where they were being brought, and not even a kilometer away.

"We are in contact with Alpha Base using old-style wire telephone technology," he continued, unfazed by the questioning look Peeko gave him. "Harder to detect and impossible to jam unless they cut the connection. I'm guessing once I report your arrival they will show a great deal of interest."

He paused for a while, clearly lost in thought. "However, before I do that I would like your help in disabling the rail system. They're using it to send prisoners away – I'm guessing they can't spare the transports. Where exactly the POW camp is, I don't know, but I'm sure it would be a pain in their side to have to ferry them by spaceship or whatever. Also, I'll be glad when my district isn't full of enemy activity."

"I'll give you guys some time to have a rest, and then we'll move in. Captain, if you could stay here and help me understand the enemy a little bit it would be much appreciated."

"Of course," replied Peeko. "You need all the help you can get. First of all..."

Moritz didn't hear the rest because he'd shot out of there to sit down on a chair in the make-shift base. He had no idea how big it was, just that he was underneath McDonald's. He'd instantly recognized the smell of the place because he'd worked in one for a few months after school. With a chuckle as he lit a cigarette he remembered when the biggest fear he had in his life was making someone wait more than three minutes for some disgusting food, meaning they'd moan and complain all the time, possibly try to hit him if they were drunk.

"Can I _schnorr _a cigarette off you, Corporal?" asked an older, clean cut man, bringing him out of his reminiscing. He seemed like a tough guy.

_No. _"Sure, you can have one," answered Moritz annoyed but unwilling to fight over it. After a brief moment of silence, he decided to ask. "So, how'd you get here?"

"_Verfassungsschutz_." That was all the man really needed to say, seeing as it meant he was from the intelligence services. Really it meant constitutional protection, but there was little doubt that merely protecting constitutional order was a bit lower in the order of priorities these days.

"Heh. Do you know what's going on in the world? We weren't allowed to listen to the broadcasts from a few days after the initial assault – they took away our radios."

The man looked at Moritz grimly. "That's because they've stopped. These guys here obviously knew who to hit the hardest."

What came next shocked Moritz to the core: everyone was losing.

"The Americans got hit really hard, and that took some of the heat off us when Alpha Base got attacked. The Imps there had proper air- and bombardment support, and far more troops were landed there than here initially. They didn't make the mistake of underestimating them like they did us. There were huge battles from Washington DC to Montreal through to San Francisco, right down to the hick towns with fifty rednecks who own a gun. I think it changes a lot of your fighting chances when you're a gun-nut. Not necessarily more likely to survive, but you're definitely scarier and more likely to kill than someone who never used a weapon until a couple of months ago.

"Anyway almost everywhere in North and South America has fallen. There are pockets of resistance like ours but that's about it. The big cities are down, and only a handful of military bases survive. A lot of African nations fought back but were almost instantly defeated. I'd say the exceptions are South Africa and Lybia, who both surprised the invaders with a hell of a fightback. Rumor has it that in deserted areas they just exterminate whatever they come across, armed or not. Africa just got colonized _again_. Poor bastards never had a chance, and not enough help. Not much we could do about that really."

The man blew out the blue smoke from the cigarette, leaning his head back on the wall, before slowly turning back to Moritz.

"Australia and New Zealand are down as is most of Oceania including the islands. They've landed garrisons everywhere from Fidji to Hawaii in the Pacific. Indonesia got brutally crushed by those walkers, they had nothing to punch through their armor. Millions of dead there, civilians just trampled by those machines. Easily one of the most brutal parts of the war apart from what I'm getting to."

He took a long drag from his cigarette again, noticing that it was burning itself away as he spoke. He didn't want to waste any Nicotine.

"You may know China, India and surrounding smaller nations such as Thailand and Vietnam banded together and formed a base similar to Alpha in the mountains there?"

"I've heard vague rumours, yes." answered Moritz.

"Well, they didn't get underestimated either. They had over a _million _troops gathered there, a bit like us with groups from different nations taking turns on the front lines. They didn't have a lake to take down those huge walking tanks, and they met the white helmeted troops from the start. Like your friends we killed earlier."

"Seen those before today too," interrupted the soldier proudly. "I was on that mission to get the fighters on the first day. Had a little spat with them but they got cut down by a Black Hawk's minigun."

"Well, there were thousands of the bastards there, and not many miniguns. They wiped'em out, including all the heads of state from the region. They just killed them all. The countries are all under Imperial control with the usual pockets..."

"What about us? The Europeans? How are we doing?" Moritz wanted to know. "Have they slaughtered civilians here?"

"Not as much as you'd expect," said the agent. "Of course, yesterday's fighting will have brought new wrath all over the world and I have no idea what has happened there. I stopped getting news from other continents three days ago, so for anything after that you know as much as I do. All I know is that for some reason they were unwilling to hit our cities as hard as in some other places. I can't understand why yet but I'm sure there's a good reason.

"Britain, Germany, Italy and France got a good beating, but not as bad as the Russians. These guys certainly did their research on who would be dangerous. That's why they weren't too clued up about Alpha Base here in Austria. It was new, specifically upgraded for now and top secret. Everything else, the who's who if you will, was easily recognizable. I just feel sorry for Tokyo – they didn't even have a chance to get ready. The whole city has been destroyed."

Both men let out a sigh at the realization that they were pretty screwed. Moritz remembered the motto that had caught on so easily and well just a few weeks ago. He hadn't heard it in some time, but now seemed as good a moment as any to say it.

"Never give in."

At that, the intelligence officer nodded, and a runner came to get them. "Come on, briefing is in five minutes, the colonel wants everyone there!"

**'''''''''''''''''''''''**

**POW camp, 30km South of Vienna**

**'''''''''''''''''''''''**

After the shuttle landed Kobarrn was welcomed by the prison camp commander. A suspicious-looking officer by the name of Malruk, he did his very best to be as curteous as he could to him so that things would go smoothly. The POW-camp commander did the same in the hope that the surprise arrival didn't show up any... findings about his wardens or failures in security. Kobarrn disliked him intensely from the start.

"Of course, any facilities you require will be made available to you at but a moment's notice," said Malruk grinning widely. "Should you need the services of a woman – or perhaps a man – you can choose whoever you may like."

Kobarrn stopped and looked at the idiot walking next to him. His eyes seem to drill through the cowardly officer's eyes, and the man saw that this had not been the right thing to say. The captain was about to utter a reprimand when an odd voice interrupted him. To him, it was the most beautiful, melancholy voice he had ever heard. It stopped and started, the pitch rising and falling in a hypnotic way. Wonderful singing. Not even anything he'd heard at the Coruscant Galactic Opera compared – and then another voice joined in and he was mezmerized. It seemed to have a similar effect on the prisoners in the row after row of group cages that had been set up, tears welling up in their dirty faces or simply stunning them to silence as they simple listened. Walking to the source of the pleasant disturbance, he looked through the sea of silent faces before finally reaching the cell he was in search of. Two women in neighbouring cells were seemingly singing to each other through the wire mesh, their faces filled with sad emotions, ignoring him and the other Imperials completely.

"They got picked up in Vienna near some sort of opera. We think they were conducting psychological warfare," whispered the prison warden. "It's chilling, isn't it? Such a terrible noise."

"Be quiet and bring that translation droid here!" whispered Kobarrn agitatedly.

The warden did as he was told and they waited for the song to end in silence, Kobarrn feeling emotions swirl within him that he had never thought he would feel again. He knew right away that if he could hear this beautiful voice every day his search was over. He had found what would make him happy. The woman he was fond of had short black hair, perfect curves (in his opinion) and one of the most stunningly pretty faces he'd ever seen. He motioned at her to come towards him, and her face immediately betrayed her fear. He tried to smile warmly, and told the droid to reassure her that nothing was going to happen to her.

Confused, she made her way towards him, hands clasped behind her back. He could feel his blood pressure rising as she got closer – he was intoxicated as her aroma wafted over to him.

"What is this song you were just singing so wonderfully?" he asked, waiting for the droid to translate the question.

"Something you murderers would _never _understand!" she answered defiantly. "It is about love, enjoying the freedom and beauty of nature together!"

He smiled almost apologetically at her. "It is one of the most amazing songs I have ever heard. Please, tell me what it is called?"

The droid translated again and she looked genuinely surprised at his seemingly benevolent insistence. "It is from an opera called Lakmé by Leo Delibes, the song is the Flower Duet. It is my favourite song because it allows one to sing in perfect harmony with someone else, and when it works the effect makes me shiver with delight."

He just smiled, thanked her and turned to leave, but she shouted for him to wait and come closer to the fence, which he agreed to doing. She made a sudden move, bringing one of the arms that had been behind her back forward and towards him.

"Watch out! She's got a weapon!" shouted a guard from the wall behind her, bringing his blaster rifle to his shoulder and firing a shot into her upper back. She stumbled in shock as the bolt hit her and tripped forwards, catching herself on the wire mesh and dropping a small white flower onto the floor. She whispered something as Kobarrn shouted to cease fire and bring a medic in surprise, adding that he wanted to see the idiot who'd fired off the shot immediately. Panic ran through him as he opened the gate and pulled her out, the warden having to beat back her enraged cell mates as he did so.

_What in the name of the Sith just happened? _He wondered, close to sobbing. He'd just met what he thought could have been the love of his life and she was already _dead!_

The medics arrived but after a quick search for a pulse declared her dead at the scene, admitting there was nothing they could do as the shot had destroyed her spine.

"Damn it!" shouted Kobarrn, holding her in his arms as rage started taking over. "I am an experienced officer! If she'd had a weapon I could have easily disarmed her."

Twenty meters away, he saw a trooper jogging towards them. "Is that him?" he called out, and the warden nodded. After gently laying the dead young singer on her back and closing her shocked eyes, he strode towards the sheepish-looking guard who stopped and saluted. Kobarrn jabbed his fist into the man's throat viciously, making him fall to the ground, gasping for air.

"Idiot!" he screamed. "It was a flower! A damned flower and you decided that was a threat? Were you even aware that this is a _wire mesh fence_ which means she couldn't even have stabbed me? Wasn't she thoroughly 'searched' before being dumped into this pile of poodoo?"

He started kicking the man on the ground, speaking in rhythm with the thumping of his boot. "Tell. Me. Why. You. Shot. Her."

The warden decided to speak up. "Captain, I believe he has learned his lesso-"

A right hook interrupted him as it shattered his cheekbone and broke through teeth. He stumbled back in surprise but looked at the captain, incensed.

"You just thtruck a thuperior offither!" He spluttered through blood, lisping thanks to the now missing teeth. "I don't care what authority Admiral Theeth gave you, you will fathe court marthial!"

"Quiet, you incompetent fool!" Kobarrn replied calmly. "I'm here under the authority of Theese. Now bring me any military prisoner you have, starting with the highest ranks."

**''''''''''''''**

**Alpha Base**

**''''''''''''''**

"Good news everyone," announced Manali, Peeko's sergeant. "I've been able to adapt the nuclear fuel we collected to get the guns up and running, although I'm afraid the shield generator will only function in a very limited capacity with what we have."

Around him, the Rebel officers and troops nodded somberly before the Earthling ones, their translation only coming moments later.

"Don't be too happy," said Luke Skywalker. "We'll only be able to use them for a short period of time if we do. What with the radar announcing the arrival of yet another Star Destroyer moments ago, I have a niggling feeling that things are going to get a little tougher from now on."

He wasn't telling them the whole truth. He'd had a dark feeling creep over him the moment that Star Destroyer had entered the system. _It must be him. He's here for me. _

Manali took over again. "What's left of Earth's leadership has agreed that the planet is lost. The priorities for the Alliance have changed, and we will be taking most of our men away as soon as possible."

Several of the Earthlings began to grumble.

"Hey! You guys are the ones that wanted us to fight in the first place!" shouted one man, to the general agreement of most of his comrades. "Now you're leaving us to die?"

Before Manali could respond, someone else spoke up. "We'd have been better off if we'd just bowed down to our new alien masters!"

The silence was deafening, everyone shocked by the statement. Finally, General Köhler stood up and walked to the front. His eyes looked sad. "If this is what you think, then something terrible has happened. If this is what you think then you have lost hope, lost your pride, lost your loyalty and bravery. Anyone who believes what that man over there just said can follow him out of this room and never come back. Right now. Do it. You do not need to hear the rest of the operation's briefing."

The man in question was a certain Master Sergeant Chermak. A heavy man with round spectacles and a very thin moustache, he had always wondered why Earth had bothered to fight back. Now he knew, he was sure, that they were making a terrible mistake. The rebels were the bad influence. They had to be removed, somehow, for Earth to join the Empire before they were all annihilated. These fanatics would obviously fight till everything they had was destroyed. He would not accept that.

He shuffled through seats as he stood up and left, but as he reached the door he turned. "Everyone here knows I'm right when I say none of this would have happened if it weren't for these aliens. That's all."

With a triumphant smirk, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

**Thanks for reading! Any reviews are much appreciated of course. Sorry again for the lack of updates for so long, but have you noticed how dead many fics gets in the summer? I'm not the only one!**


	8. Suppress and Flank

**Wahey, new chapter. Big thanks to GJMEGA for the beta!**

**Vienna Western Train Station**

**'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

Moritz swore as a blaster bolt impacted the ground right next to his leg, making himself smaller again behind the concrete block that was his current cover.

"We need to keep moving!" he shouted, looking around and seeing that the resistance fighters didn't seem overly keen of leaving their cover. Hardly surprising since most of them had no real military training. _Verdammte Scheisse! Do I have to do everything around here?_ He caught the colonel's eye and finally saw someone who would help them get out of this mess. He looked across at Peeko, who had helped him spearhead the assault on the building and was on the other end of the large hall they were in. Debris cluttered the battlefield, offering perfect cover.

"Covering fire!" ordered the colonel, and the resistance fighters at the back finally let rip in earnest. The machine-gun that had been set up on a tipped-over coke-machine was clearly scaring the imperial troopers, forcing them to duck as bullets impacted in the walls around them. Moritz and Peeko used the chance to move immediately, flanking the enemy from either side and catching them in deadly crossfire.

Moritz found himself feeling no remorse as he started firing at what might as well have been a turkey-shoot, hitting a grunt trooper in the face with his first shot. Overwhelmed and confused by fire coming from all sides, the squad troopers defending the doorway either stood up and got cut down by the guns at the back, or taken out by the resistance's two newcomers. It had been a textbook suppress and double-flank maneuver, and the troopers had been totally powerless to stop it.

The assault group made their way through the building quickly, taking out the little opposition they faced in a similarly efficient manner. Before long, they'd made it to the control centre and explosives had been rigged.

"Good job, guys, we couldn't have done it without you," said the colonel. "As soon as we get back to base I'll be sure to report you to Alpha Base, and try to give you a means back to base."

They were interrupted by sound of several voices calling from the storage area below. "_Hallo? Ist da jemand? _Can anybody help us? What's going on up there? Help!"

Everyone ran down to investigate the sound as more and more voices clamored for help, and there they were: row after row of holding cells filled to the brim with people. A cheer welcomed them in, and Moritz lifted his rifle to smash the butt on the first lock he came across. Peeko didn't have time to stop him as a small jolt of electricity slammed him back onto the floor – much to the crowd's dismay.

Captain Peeko almost laughed when he saw the kid get thrown back. He'd done well so far, but it wasn't his fault he wasn't used to shock-locks. Calmly, he pulled out his blaster and fired a shot at it, making it pop open in a shower of sparks. At least fifty people had been forced into the cubicle the size of a small bedroom for long enough to have needed to relieve themselves in the corner – it stank. Obviously, they were happy to get out. More quickly now, he moved to the next one, and those resistance fighters who had picked up imperial weapons did the same.

There were _hundreds_, and though the colonel thought it right to let them free, he didn't know what to do with them all. There was reportedly a safe haven in Vienna's catacombs in the center of town. _That'll have to do! I can't keep them here._ Sighing, he looked for his men and women – but they'd disappeared, taken away by pretty, celebrating smelly women or men and drowned out by the sound of chattering and crying. _Damn it! Where can I find a box to make myself a little taller?_

**'''''''''''''''''''''''''**

**The Dragonfang**

**''''''''''''''''''''''''**

"Theese," said the dark voice, interrupted by sharp mechanical intakes of breath, "where can I find the boy?"

The admiral gulped as he tried to think of an excuse, a way to stall for time. "On the planet, my Lord, for no ship has escaped our blockade!" he said, slowly becoming a gibbering wreck.

"That may be, but several seemed to have made it in. I'm not interested in your pathetic excuses. It is only a matter of time before I find him myself, but I understand one of your men is infiltrating the resistance."

"Who?" asked Theese before he could stop himself. "I ordered no such thing!"

Darth Vader was quiet for a moment, only his breathing machine making a sound. "Fool."

With that, he turned with a swish of his cape to make his way back to his own Star Destroyer, his closest officer following in his footsteps.

"Get the 501st ready, they are going to be entering a combat zone very soon," he said as he walked, his officer knowing he didn't need to say anything. "And find out what is so blasted amazing about this planet. I want it all: ancient star charts, encyclopedias, anything. Something here isn't right – the Emperor ordered this invasion personally and is following it with great interest. Skywalker is there, but some other presence is clouding my vision, making it hard for me to find him. Unacceptable. Now move."

The orderly ran ahead to the transport shuttle so that the orders would be passed on before Vader was even being ferried from one Star Destroyer to the other. He appreciated urgency.

**'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

**Kobarrn, Vienna catacombs, several days later**

**'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

Despite himself, Kobarrn was enjoying being undercover far more than anything ever before. Getting the vocal chip right had been fairly difficult, but soon enough he'd been walking around the prison and easily passing as an Earthling. The universe really was quite remarkable: here he was, son of a traditional military family from Coruscant, pretending to be a Tirolian soldier. _And getting away with it too! _He thought triumphantly. So far, he hadn't met his "rescuers", but he was sure Peeko and his Earthling pet were his ticket to Skywalker, and that was all that counted. Sure enough, moments later he saw the two of them drinking a caffeine drink and the Earthling with a cigarette in his mouth. He did not look happy.

He walked up to Peeko and started speaking in Basic, much to the spy's surprise and curiosity. Within seconds he had a blaster pointed at his head and a collective gasp went out in the damp, dark underground room they were in. The Earthling said something and they got back to their chattering while Kobarrn was moved to another room kept empty.

"Who are you?" asked Peeko, still pointing the gun to his head. _This might not have been such a good idea, _realized Kobarrn._ No. It__'s a challenge._

"I'm- I'm- I'm Major Gerhard Steinegger, Tirolian 3rd _Jägerkompanie," _he stammered. "They got me in the battle for Innsbruck. I learned basic on the course."

"No you didn't," said Moritz matter-of-factly. In Basic. "I never saw you there. And if you were, who was our teacher?"

Kobarrn smiled at the trick question. _That devious little abo! _"There was no teacher. We had headgear on that somehow made learning easier as we stared at a flashing screen that basically made no sense at all! And then suddenly I could speak it."

Kobarrn had loved that little tidbit of information from the screaming prisoner. While it was unfortunate that he'd killed the man in the end, he'd received quite a lot of very useful information. The man kind of looked a bit like Kobarrn, and soon enough the plan had been born, especially since they had a man on the inside now. Slowly but surely Earthlings had started preferring to cooperate than die – as this particular contact had.

He could tell neither of them trusted him, but that didn't really matter. He figured he'd be going to Alpha Base whether he wanted to or not now...

An hour later, a Black Hawk helicopter landed on the Stephansplatz in front of the cathedral and the three made their way out through the cold rain. Zafir stretched his hand out to Moritz and he gladly took it, remembering how badly it had went last time he'd been holding on to someone in a helicopter. His friend had a cigarette in his mouth and offered one to him, which he gladly accepted. They sat on the edge (they had harnesses on these choppers), Zafir manning the mini-gun and Moritz next to him, simply looking out. Kobarrn was handcuffed to a steel bar near the back-seat and Peeko kept an eye on him, busy writing a report on a datapad.

"So where you been, man?" asked Zafir.

"Oh, you know," answered Moritz with a smile, "hanging out with skulls underground, drinking, falling out of the back of choppers, getting rescued, rescuing people, smoking, chatting to girls, killing, stuff like that."

Zafir chuckled. "You lucky bastard. They tried to take Alpha Base a couple of times but the miniguns are just too much for them. I just hope we have enough ammo down there. I remember someone telling us we had enough ammo to fire all guns continuously for over a month, but I'm not sure I believe that. What was that about the girls?"

"Well," started Moritz, "we rescued about a thousand prisoners from the train station, and they all saw me first. I tell you man, there's something sensationally odd about getting kissed by a load of girls who haven't washed or cleaned their teeth recently. Kinda hot, in a way. Well, and in the catacombs there isn't much to do, so you know..."

"No way!" exclaimed Zafir, turning at him and losing his cigarette to the strong wind as his mouth opened. "I swear Alpha Base is pretty much men-only."

"Not that you mind, eh Zafman?"

"Shut up," said Zafir, punching him on the arm as they both laughed.

Suddenly, large red bolts whizzed by, fired from the top of the old anti-air bunkers left over from World War Two. _Ironic, _thought Zafir as he opened fire, strafing the position and hitting a few men. Moritz was leaning out with the harness and trying to pick imps off from a distance with his rifle but it was hard going, the helicopter swerving, diving and rising as it avoided the shots and flew off, out of Vienna and towards Alpha Base.

Moritz was glad he was with Zafir again. _Finally, someone normal_, he thought bitterly. He didn't trust that Steinegger guy, but he thought of a simple test that could work in uncovering him. For now however, that would have to wait. Peeko had said to leave him alone, so he did. He respected the rebel agent, even if he was starting to wonder what the guy's real intentions were. Why were they even being invaded? He had to admit that he had no idea...

As they flew into the mountain, Kobarrn was at first a little worried, even if he didn't show it. The primitive hunk of junk machine they were flying in didn't feel safe at all, and the entrance to the mountainside looked very small. It took all of his strength not to let his jaw drop or stare when they were inside. The huge hangar was breathtaking but he had to be careful not to show his surprise, seeing as his character had been before.

"Alright then boys, time for you guys to get off my bird and let me not die for a while longer," said the pilot jokingly.

"Thanks, _Alter -_ we'll try_,_" said Moritz as he jumped down. He turned to his friend. "Hey, how come you were even on that helicopter?"

"I came to save your ass!" joked Zafir. He didn't need to say that he'd had to volunteer, and that only his fairly undeserved status as a special forces operative had made it possible. It's just that he didn't like leaving things in the hands of others.

Stubbs was leaning in the hangar doorway with his arms crossed, a wry smirk on his face. Moritz didn't notice him at first, but for some reason when he did he felt elated, saluting as he approached in an almost cheeky way.

"I knew I could count on you to cause a hassle," said the Major with a smile, saluting back and shaking his hand.

"I've learned my lesson, sir," replied Moritz as their hands met. "If I ever need to hang out of the side of a helicopter to help you, I won't do it. Falling hurts."

Stubbs laughed and looked sombre for a moment. "Reed is fine by the way, the blast hit his arm and nothing really important. He'll probably be back in action in a couple of weeks. And this guy here," he pointed at Zafir, "threatened to go AWOL if they didn't let him pick you up in the Black Hawk."

"You make it sound so terrible, sir," Zafir said, opening his arms defensively. "You'd have done the same for anyone else."

"No I wouldn't, it was stupid and you could have died. But you didn't, so I'll let you off this time."

They were about to make their excuses when Moritz decided to tell the major about his suspicions on the supposed Austrian. He indicated that he'd feel better if Stubbs check him out, but the Brit waved him off. None of his business, apparently.

**'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

**Luke**

**'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

There was something wrong with this planet, he was starting to be sure of it. Not only the darkness when he had felt what he was sure was Darth Vader turning up in the system; no it seemed to be everywhere, an odd feeling seemingly calling him to go somewhere. He could tell that whatever it was, it was far away, and moving around on the planet at the moment was fairly stupid. He was clearly the only one who was affected by this, he could tell. No one else would have understood what he was talking about so he hadn't asked around; they'd have thought he was going insane.

No, it was best not to do something as drastic and go on a possible suicide mission or even – _who knows? -_ trick by Darth Vader to kill him. He had never met the man in question in person, but he knew stories of the guy's power. Obi-Wan had warned him off looking for a fight with the guy – he was sure to come off far worse, and if not dead then possibly even at his side. No, apparently he would face him when the time came.

It still bothered him though, this calling. It didn't let him concentrate on fixing his X-Wing, something that was going to have to be done soon if they were going to leave this place. He felt terrible for doing that and just hoped the Earthlings wouldn't hate them forever for the abandoning act. They were going to leave all their weapons, but the Earthlings had just snorted, arguing that weapons were no substitute for being somewhere, having learned that lesson with a highly contested region of the planet called Israel. And they were right, of course. What was the point of guns with no one to shoot them? Not to mention they had enough of their own.

As he started practicing bolt deflection with the little flying droid again – hey, he was getting better! - he remembered his short-lived tutelage under Master Obi-Wan. And then he was there, right in front of him, shining blue.

"Obi-Wan!" he shouted in surprise. "How... What are you doing here?"

"Coming to visit a troubled young man who's cheating at deflecting bolts," came the calm, gentle reply.

"I'm not cheating," said Luke, lucking at the hovering ball. "I just want to practice my lightsabre positions. The whirly thing is just for fun, really. Makes it a little less boring."

"Boring? Don't you like peace and quiet yet, my boy?"

Luke knew he'd disappointed his master, so changed the subject.

"He's here, isn't he?" he asked.

The blue Kenobi nodded slightly, glad that the boy had at least realized as much. "But what scares me more is that pulling I feel towards somewhere on this planet. I can almost picture it: it's in a jungle, I'm sure of it"

Obi-Wan, if he' been alive, would have been taken aback by the revelation. Force compasses were usually a trap, making themselves irresistible to force users. Great Jedi had fallen because the dark side clouded their vision so much that by the end all they could think of was going to the place they were attracted to. And then they got killed. However, becoming one with the Force allowed him to see things Luke couldn't, and he knew Luke would have to go investigate.

"Luke," he started, "you're going to have to go where the Force tells you. There is a reason the Emperor wants this planet. You are going to have to find it before him – or Vader."

"What? Why? What is it?" replied Luke excitedly, missing a little bolt and getting shocked by it.

Obi-Wan chuckled as he started to fade away. "That, my dear friend, is something you will have to find out for yourself. Until then, maybe practice deflecting a little more with outside influences. You get distracted too easily..."

"No! Don't go!" shouted Luke. "I need your help! Please!"

"So long, Luke. I'm confident you can do it – you needn't do it alone. Don't forget, I'll be with you every step of the way. Always."

And then he was gone. Luke sat down, distraught at seeing his friend and then losing him again in such a short time. He was terrified of what lay ahead, wondered what it could possibly be that was pulling him. He was going to have to find someone to trust.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

_**Why **_**does **_**the Emperor want Earth? What will Moritz, Zafir and the Royal Marines do next? How will the Alliance escape? Will Kobarrn destroy everything the Earthlings have worked so hard to protect?**_

_**Find out about all of these things and more in... one of the next chapters of Earth Wars!**_

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	9. Testing the Snow

**My god I am so sorry to any fans of this story, I've just been swamped by school and concentrating on one or two other projects as this was in a bit of a rut. Thankfully, I had a little inspiration and decided to see what people might think!**

**Outpost #233, 50km East of Alpha Base**

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_Oh what is it this time? _Wondered Lieutenant Berku as he switched off the comms and made his way towards the guard who had called him. Ever since he'd been transferred to the much-dreaded outpost in the Austrian Alps for letting Skywalker get away he'd been dealing with one problem after the other. As the CO of the forward base it was his job to deal with each one personally. There had been prisoner escape attempts, sabotage, small raids by locals and more worryingly Rebel Alliance soldiers with blasters. Always fairly easily beaten off, but the life expectancy for most troopers here was rather low. He'd expected to get shot over the Skywalker incident – instead, because they were short of men, he'd simply been sent to the front line and it was dreadful. _But I can regain my honour!_

"What is it?" he barked at the guard who'd called him up to the fifteen foot wall. He took a second to take in the scenery: beautiful white mountains, snow-covered forests and this ugly quick-build standard hostile territory outpost made up of the usual command centre, barracks, comms, shield generator, armoury and prison buildings.

The guard took a step back and put a finger to his lips. "Listen, sir."

Berku shut his mouth and turned his ear towards the valley and, although at first he couldn't hear anything, slowly his hearing adapted and brought the low rumble of heavy vehicles forth. He was about to say something when suddenly another sound joined in. Much higher pitched, it sounded like music. _Music?_

"The droid thinks it has identified the music, sir," said the trooper, pointing at a protocol droid aiming its microphone down the valley.

"I am ninety-five percent certain that this is a piece played by Earthling orchestras in operas, for example," it started, in its typically polite voice. "According to my databases, this piece was written by a man named Richard Wagner one hundred and sixty-nine years ago."

Berku smacked the droid on the side of the head before it could carry on. "I don't _care _what it is, much less who wrote it. I want to know why they're playing it."

The droid looked shaken for a moment, but continued. "Forgive me sir, I was just approaching the point. It is called the _Ride of the Valkyries_, a mythological creature from a warlike tribe that frequented major parts of the planet quite some time ago. These female forms supposedly chose who would die in battle."

"Get to the point."

"It has been used many times before to intimidate enemies, as demonstrated in the factual documentary _Apocalypse Now_. Citation needed."

"What are you babbling on about? What citation?"

"Forgive me, sir. My database on Earthling culture is taken straight from their encyclopedias. I am at a loss to explain what this signifies."

Berku turned away, not wanting to waste any more time with the idiotic machine. The music was getting louder, but so was the rumble. He punched the alert button for what seemed like the hundredth time that week, immediately bringing up the base's shields and making all his troops scramble to their defensive positions. Valkyries didn't sound like fun.

High above him, a Eurofighter dropped its 500lb payload and turned back to base, undetected thanks to the disabling of the outpost's radar located on top of the mountain by Alliance special forces. It had not been Berku's decision to place it there but a necessity due to the mountainous terrain, so it had been isolated. Thanks to their quick and efficient neutralisation of the guards on the summit and the falsification of positive reports, he was none the wiser for the next few seconds as the bomb slowly fell towards its intended target: the shield generator. Had the alarm not been raised, the surveillance troopers may have noticed the intense infra-red targeting beam aimed straight at the doomed technology. As it happened, they were far too busy scanning the horizon in every direction from the small base's thin walls.

Berku stared, not finding anything out of the ordinary other than the rumble and odd music. It had just started again, and despite himself he couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear as the high-pitched stringed instruments began their shrill warning – and suddenly they were there. As if morphing out of the ground, the Eurotigers were not equipped with weapons on their 'wings', but with massive sound systems. They moved closer with frightening speed, the brass instruments now joining into the cacophony of sound. As they got closer, his nervous men started taking pointless pot shots at the enemy, wasting their clips on nothing despite his loud attempts at calling them to order. And then the bomb from above hit its target, and everything turned to Hell.

He caught a glimpse of a huge line of Earthling armour coming over the crest, but the explosion flung him at the wall, winding him and making his ears buzz. Men around him screamed as the shield flickered and died, removing the outer wall's protection. Now all that remained was thin durasteel and the troopers' sheer determination to survive. Shells fired from Leopard II tanks pounded against the wall, forming dents and small cracks.

Berku slowly and painfully got to his feet and stumbled his way through the black smoke coming out of what had been the shield generator. He needed to call for reinforcement and orbital support, and he needed to do it before communications were cut completely. The small comms cabin wasn't far away and he smashed the door open, revealing a man slumped in his chair, radio chatter filling the room.

"You!" shouted Berku, "Why aren't you busy calling for reinforcements! Can't you tell we're in deep poodoo here?"

Since the man didn't reply he grabbed the chair and turned it, only to make the comms operator fall off and reveal brains gaping out of the back of his skull. _Oh, this is not good_. Picking up a comm, he began to scream.

"This is Lieutenant Berku, CO of outpost 233 requesting immediate assistance! We are currently under attack – the Earthlings came out of nowhere and are overrunning the base as we speak!"

Another large explosion shook the building, which could only mean one thing: their ordnance was starting to hit targets inside the base.

"Lieutenant Berku, this is command," replied a calm, typically calm voice for an operator. "Help is already on the way, we noticed odd readings on our sensors not long ago and your comms officer was not responding to our calls. Hang in there."

With nothing else to say, Berku just breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the operator. _I need to get the men to hold on just a little longer!_

**'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

**Moritz**

**''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

Watching the carnage from the mountaintop through their scopes, Moritz wished he could pull the trigger. The Imps had no idea they were being watched and, if the order came through, they would all be dead in the space of seconds. However, this wasn't the point of their mission. They weren't really here to slaughter, they were here to analyse the Empire's reaction to direct assaults. Until now, they had only dared to apply guerilla tactics, leaving the heavy stuff at home. Over the din of firing weaponry, the Ride of the Valkyries could still be heard being blared out of two of the choppers' sound systems in the distance. It was supposed to initiate the Empire to a new idea: that Earthlings were crazy, wild and scary by definition when in fact every move they made was cold and calculated. _We're smarter than they think._

"Incoming transports, Sir," said Sergeant Burns. "I see six streaks so far."

"Thanks, Sergeant Obvious," teased Stubbs as he got ready to report. "Command this is Bravo two-niner, be advised: six Tie-Transports incoming. No idea what or who they're sending, over."

"Roger Bravo two-niner," crackled the radio. "Keep us posted, over and out."

Bravo two-niner was composed of the usual British so-called Royal Marines, Tanner, Milovic and Captain Peeko. He had asked to tag along, wishing to learn a bit more on the way Earthlings did things because so far he had been impressed.

The transports landed like unstoppable dive-bombers and opened their hatches, white-armoured men immediately storming out and opening fire. Unlike the classic troopers, stormtroopers were calm and controlled. Their shots were accurate and thought-out, not wild bursts in the general direction of the enemy. Some carried heavier weaponry that was even beginning to take its toll on Earthling armour, molten glowing metal clearly visible from afar.

"We've got stormies – I repeat, we've got stormies!" shouted Burns. "Wait a second – one of them is armoured in black?"

The man in question walked out of his dropship and stomped forward as if he didn't have a care in the world, ignoring the shells and bullets whizzing past his head as the battle raged on. Then, he drew out his lightsabre and began waving it wildly in front of him. He couldn't deflect the solid shots, but he could stop them, and the surprise that caused was enough for him to stretch out his hand, move it downwards and seemingly slam an assault helicopter into the ground violently.

"_Heilige Scheisse_!" exclaimed Moritz. "Did you guys just _see that?"_

"Yes, I did," answered Major Stubbs darkly. "Burns, target black bellend-helmet and fire at will."

The .50 Barrett M82 fires huge slugs and enables sniper shots over massive distances with good accuracy. As the dark lord stopped to lift and throw a sixty-two ton tank at yet another helicopter, Burns took his chance and pulled the trigger. The bang was indescribably loud, and two kilometres away Darth Vader only noticed the projectile too late, only beginning to turn his lightsabre in the right direction before he got hit.

"This is Bravo two-niner recommending immediate dispersal after a high-profile kill. Captain Peeko says they will not be happy about this one. Also, he can't stop grinning like an idiot."

With that, the remaining Earthlings in the valley below soon began a perfectly ordered retreat. Tanks and APCs fired backwards as they left and choppers dropped smokebombs to obscure the imps' vision. Most of them stopped firing, but the stormtroopers continued their relentless shooting through the smoke.

Peeko spoke up. "Yeah, their helmets allow them to see through smoke. I think we should go with plan B. Believe me, they will be bringing a lot of back up very soon."

After a brief translation, Stubbs agreed and ordered his men to strap on their skis. "It's time to go have ourselves a little _hors-piste_, men. Everyone ready?"

When everyone answered affirmatively, the Major grinned as he pressed a red button on a little remote. Plumes of flame, snow and ice could be seen at regular points along the mountainside as the planted explosives did their thing, while the eight heavily armed skiers started their slalom through the woods. Moritz loved this part: he was clearly the best at swishing through the snow, the others beginning to lag behind a little.

"We're approaching the edge of the forest!" he shouted after stopping to wait for his comrades. "Get ready to pull on the string as soon as you're in the clear and remember what I told you or you will get buried under a huge pile of snow and rocks. It's easy, you'll be fine!"

Although forests slowed avalanches down, they didn't stop them – especially ones this size, since they never occurred naturally. They could hear the approaching rumble, so all took it as a sign to pick up speed and break through the tree-line as fast as possible. Then, in quick succession, the sound of eight parachutes opening could be heard as the squad lifted off the slope in a nick of time, the avalanche's wall of death throwing itself down the mountain with considerable speed. Considerable speed that hit the imperial troops below hard since they'd had nowhere to hide. Bravo two-niner all whooped in excitement at the combined adrenaline rush of flying through the air and victory, watching as the base's walls buckled and snapped beneath the weight of thousands of tonnes of snow. Before long, only debris and the tops of some buildings could be seen above the snow, everything else covered or destroyed.

The squad made a turn and headed for their evac, knowing today would be a turning point in the battle against the Empire. They passed dangerously close to huge rocks jutting out of mountains, but the overconfidence didn't punish them this time, allowing for a bit of fun on a war-torn planet.

**'''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

**Berku**

**''''''''''''''''''''''''''**

"No," said Lieutenant Berku simply as he saw Lord Vader fall to the ground in a shower of electrical sparks. "No! I've got to get him, I've got to-"

Several explosions above signalled the arrival of something he'd warned his superiors about several times: the avalanches. "Everyone, get inside something!" he shouted as he ran back to the comms building. Out of all the buildings at the outpost, this was the sturdiest – by necessity, since it was also usually the first target. The roar of falling snow and ice was deafening now and he knew this was going to get interesting. Suddenly, there it was, smashing into the building with so much force that it was taken off its base on the ground and slowly dragged along for a few seconds. He felt like he was on a boat as he got smashed around the room like a ragdoll or had things smashed into him with what he considered undue force.

Finally, it stopped and he dared to open the door. It didn't work, so he took the thankfully undamaged service ladder to the top and opened the access hatch to the communications dish – only to get covered in pouring snow for five seconds. Eventually, he could dig and climb his way out, where he noticed with dismay that he was the only one above-ground. Had he known anything about avalanches, he would have known why and that there were good reasons people considered them so dangerous: firstly of course the fact that the impact of an avalanche was rather painful and lethal. Then, there was the fact that one went where the avalanche went once one was inside – for example into a pile of sharp rocks. But these weren't the worst of it. The main reason only 45% of people survived being buried was the thick layer of snow that had been compressed by wind over weeks before the avalanche even occurred that formed an almost impenetrable barrier to oxygen.

"Sithspit! What will I do now?" he wondered aloud.

He noticed steam was rising out of the ground not far from himself and decided this was worthy of investigation. He began digging with his hands, but quickly realised he'd have to move away as the snow was melting from beneath him. A red glow started to shine through the snow and relief flooded through the Lieutenant as he recognised the only person who could possibly be causing it. Slowly, Darth Vader crawled out of of his hole using his sabre-carrying arm, rage seething within him.

"Thank the stars you are alive, my lord,"said Berku admiringly. "Your arm-"

"Quiet!" answered the touchy dark lord. "I have plenty of replacements on my ship that can be fitted at a moment's notice. Now why are you above the ground?"

"I made it to cover before the avalanche hit, my lord."

Vader seemed to ponder this for a bit before answering. "You're lucky, and I know there is no such thing as luck. There is only the force. I know you have met Skywalker. Yes, you will help me. Help me find Skywalker! Such is the will of the Force. Follow me."

The Lambda-class shuttle was already landing before Berku even noticed the swish of Vader's cape.

"But what of the men, my lord? Won't we look for survivors?"

Vader stopped and turned, bringing up his good hand and chocking the lieutenant from a distance as he spoke. "Question my orders again and I shall squeeze for longer. The people who experience this do not tend to survive very long. I hope this is understood."

"Loud and clear, my lord," Berku managed as he gasped for air.

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**So there you go. First update in ages. I'm sorry, GJMEGA and the others – if you still want to beta, you're more than welcome to, it's just that I kinda felt bad asking for you to do something after months of inactivity. So yeah, you can see the Earthlings taking baby steps towards being badass. Interestingly, the rebels think Vader is dead now...**


	10. Oh The Times They Are Changin'

**Only two and a half years or so since the last update. Yeah, shaddap. Sorry. I got inspired in recent times. The biggest thing that inspired me is that, from time to time, people still find this story and leave a review. I cherish them all. Even the weirder ones. Thank you.**

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Chapter 10

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**Aboard the Super Star Destroyer Executor, Darth Vader's personal flagship**

Berku could tell Vader seethed with rage. He wasn't surprised: attaching a replacement arm had been more complicated than anticipated, taking the sith lord out of action for more than a week. The bullet had caused massive damage to the black armour, shifting attachment points and requiring hours upon hours of soldering and rewiring. All of this sitting around clearly made Vader restless, and so he asked Berku to tell him the story of Luke Skywalker's escape over and over again. Berku knew better than to lie, and told him truthfully of the beating, the silenced weaponry and outpost assignment seemingly in the middle of nowhere in a desert.

"I refuse to believe Skywalker crashing near your base was a coincidence, Lieutenant Berku," stated Vader for what seemed like the umpteenth time. "Two entities that seemingly have no business with each other. A large, sandy desert with no civilisation of note. Something doesn't add up, and we are going to find out why _before _the _Executor _returns to the Imperial Death Squadron."

Berku nodded his head. "Yes my Lord, absolutely. We should send as many troops as possible down to comb the area. They shall surely find what it is the rebels are looking for. Should I forward the order, my Lord?"

Vader's regular wheezing was the only noise in the room as he pondered his decision. With sweat forming on his brow, Berku almost sighed in relief when the Dark Lord finally speak again.

"No. No one can know about this. We shall go with a detachment of the some of my finest of the 501st. The force will do the rest. Go do what must be done."

Berku bowed with a swift m'lord, and left. He knew better than to question orders since his ordeal on the planet, and trusted Vader when it came to planning operations. There had to be a reason the man was so powerful. After all, he was currently walking inside the largest battleship ever produced. Sweat forming on his brow again, the lieutenant willed his shaking legs to take him around the first corner of the corridor, walked past the black stormtroopers standing guard and punched the button for a turbolift. He strode in, punched another button, and waited for the doors to close before collapsing on the floor and starting to cry in relief. _I'm still alive._ A couple of deep breaths, and he managed to pull himself up. Just as Berku finished adjusted his uniform, the doors opened and he strode out, confident that he was on his way back up the ranks.

Soon, he entered one of the numerous command centres on the ship. This one's very existence was unknown to most aboard the ship, and had apparently always served to organise Vader's more personal missions. It wasn't so much that the crew could not be trusted, and more that everything was on a need-to-know basis. The special security door opened automatically with a hiss, and Berku got to work. First, he found twenty of the 501st elite battalion's best men in the database. Many were experienced commandos. Then, he set about organising their descent down to the planet to make it look as inconspicuous as possible to Theese's fleet. Quickly, he found that he could add their dropship to any pattern of the admiral's forces, so in fact he would never know another ship had joined in. _Interesting, Vader can fool even the most recent fleet systems. Let's hope the rebels never get a hold of that technology!_

_''''''''''''''''''''_

**Alpha Base – Research and Development**

''''''''''''''''''''''''

Moritz had never been to this part of the base before. To be fair, to get here he and Zafir had needed to walk almost a kilometre through tunnels and pass through four security checkpoints that they had not had clearance for until that morning. The vast auditorium they were in reminded him of a hangar bay more than a lecture room. A massive cube room, there were gigantic metal doors on either side both easily twenty meters high. Those reached nowhere near the top of the ceiling, that must have been another thirty meters higher. In front of the seats, that sloped up like a pyramid so that everyone could see, was a small, wooden desk with a projector and computer screen. Stubbs had been perfectly clear: this was going to be a lecture, about something. What it was going to be about was not so clear, because it was classified and apparently he didn't need to know until he knew. He and Zafir looked around at the decent attendance. There had to be at least a thousand people there, many of them clearly active-service members of the armed forces, others in very business-like suits, and what looked like a ton of brass in different uniforms.

Zafir nudged him from the side. "I think every country that is involved in Alpha Base is represented here. Look," he pointed, "I can see a French Foreign Legion hat over here, a Serbian cap over there, the German flag rim on this general's cap is obvious as well, and that kilt is just insultingly obvious. They're about to show us something important."

"No shit?" said Moritz. "I wouldn't have guessed from the extremely cryptic message we got to come here and four checkpoints we walked through. And the hundreds of high-ranked _wichser _in here. Or the super-special-forces dudes hanging around what looks like a _hangar door_."

"Fuck you I was just making conversation!"

"No, fuck you for trying to make me feel like a dumbass-"

Just then, a grey-haired man in a white lab coat entered through the door close to the desk. He looked like he was in a rush and had that look of a crazy professor about him. Certainly, the way his grey hair stuck out in each direction was a giveaway, as was the way he fiddled with his glasses. In his hand, he held a microphone headset, which he proceeded to put on. Then he flipped a switch and there was a loud feedback screech, causing everyone to cover their ears and cringe. Moments later, as he was testing his microphone, a man Moritz remembered from the famous TV landing walked in, followed by Captain Peeko, whom he already knew.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming," he began, a thick German accent coming through, "honoured soldiers of planet earth, I am Professor von Hodenberg, I am here today with these two heroes, Sergeant Manali and Kapitän Peeko from the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Today, we are going to introduce you to some of the progress we have made adapting galaxy-wide technology to earth's state of the art."

A murmur went through the crowd. There were some groans. Everyone already knew about the useful GPS without satellites. And, as the troops gained experience, they even started to dislike the blaster technology they were encountering. It was too alien, too imprecise, too slow to fire. As long as they weren't fighting storm troopers in their armour, weapons with bullets were often more than effective enough, sometimes superior due to the distances it was possible to start shooting from. What could the professor have to show that was better?

"First of all, let me explain some of the background here. Sergeant Manali and Kapitän Peeko were good enough to give us basic plans for weaponry, explosives - although I think we're better -, communication and propulsion systems when they arrived. As you may remember, we had exactly one month to prepare before the Empire arrived, and so we could not finish anything but the GPS you already know, in time. Perhaps we could have saved lives if we had known earlier, but we should be glad to have had any warning at all."

Von Hodenberg shook his head, as if realising that he was going off on a tangent.

"Anyway, we have been working feverishly, many of us every single day since that fateful day, to find _something _that can help turn the tide. And we have finally got some results, but these results need testing before broad implementation. This is where some of you lucky few will come in, later, I will talk to every testing group individually. Right now, you are actually in one of our scientific testing areas. The presentation is being held here because I need to be able to show you things. You need to see these things because they are amazing, because you need to see that we have a chance."

People looked at each other in confusion. Could it be?

"Now before I show you anything I need to explain something to you that maybe our Galactic friends will find a little offensive. Considering they have had hypertravel for so long, these guys aren't _that _much more advanced than we are. Having looked at the basic principles of hyperspace as have been shown to us, I am convinced humanity would have joined the galactic community within the next twenty to forty years. That technology is in fact delightfully simple – just like everything else they've shown us so far, in fact."

A collective gasp went through the crowd at the revelation and again, people turned to their neighbours to whisper.

"Bullshit," said Zafir to Moritz as von Hodenberg tried to calm the crowd. "How can a massive spaceship, like the one we can _see with our naked eye during the day_, be simple? I call bullshit."

Finally, the crowd went quiet and the professor could speak again. "No really, their principles are simple and I believe, should peace return one day, that we will be teaching the basics in high school in the future."

The audience stayed silent.

"Whenever we received blueprints from the Alliance, I always thought 'This is good, but I could do better'. It's only now that I realise that they can do better too. They just don't, because it's so expensive when you are talking about equipping billions of troops. Kapitän Peeko claims technology hasn't really advanced in thousands of years around the galaxy. Everyone is so used to using the things they use that they don't think outside the box. Well, we here on Earth do. And we have taken their ideas, but mixed them with ours. The most important innovation they have brought is not the lasers or even the communication system. Not even spaceships. What humanity has been missing to reach the age of space exploration is in fact power. Power, Strom, Energy, l'énèrgie, Energiya, erö, I need every person in this room to understand this. It is vital."

The professor took out a small, silver cylinder from his pocket and held it up to the crowd.

"This is what we've been missing. It is about the same size as a stick of glue from a kindergarten. Its energy output is immense by the standards of our batteries, if you can really call it that. Hundreds of times more powerful. Thousands! Sergeant Manali and Kapitän Peeko refer to them as energy cells, and they will revolutionise Planet Earth. Ladies and gentlemen, we finally have easy access to virtually unlimited electricity. And it is portable as well. Variants of these are used in conventional blasters, but we have decided to go another route than superheated plasma. Now that we can reproduce the energy cells, we can realise a dream many weapon designers have had for years."

Again, the professor paused. He activated the projector as Stubbs appeared, pushing a rack of weapons on wheels. People moved in their seats, stretching to see the weapons.

"Now now, don't worry, you'll get to see all of these up close soon enough," said the professor, chuckling. "These are the result of a lot of research. Let me introduce you to the first model of what we are hoping will eventually replace our standard assault rifles. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the TR-1, or Terran-Rail One."

People took a lot of interest now. On the screen, a modified version of what was clearly an STG 77 appeared, slowly rotating.

"Some of you may have heard of this concept before. Using the extreme amount of energy we have available with the simple energy cells, we have designed a small, light, robust and easily portable railgun. The muzzle velocity of a bullet when it is fired from a normal STG 77 is approximately 970m/s. It is about the same for our miniguns, but these fire depleted uranium, which is too heavy and dangerous to use for the infantry, but can therefore pierce through any armour the Empire throws at us. Our railguns fire hypersonic rounds using a magnet powered by an energy cell. The two thin rods you see attached here, and here, are essentially what accelerate the projectile to approximately 3km/s, or 11,000km/h. For members of the air force around here: almost mach 9."

The audience were very curious now, chatting to one another about the potential of such a weapon. Professor von Hodenberg let the information sink in, pushing his glasses back up his sweaty nose as an aide brought in a suit of stormtrooper armour and put it against the far wall, some fifty meters away. Next to it was a jelly dummy, the type that had frequently been used in firearm and weapon demonstrations for years before.

"The Major here will now demonstrate what this weapon can do in the right hands." announced von Hodenberg.

Stubbs put on some ear protectors and held the weapon in his hands. Clicking a button, he heard a faint buzz that indicated that the weapon was armed. As he steadied the weapon and took aim, the professor continued.

"Once the weapon is armed, you must not touch the barrel, as it is conducting a large amount of power. Not only is it very hot, but you will almost certainly get electrocuted. It would be an unfortunate way to die, leaving the body all but unrecognisable."

Finally, Stubbs pulled the trigger lightly, firing the first bullet. The bullet left an obvious vapor trail behind and was incredibly loud, but the jelly mannequin's chest now had a gaping hole in it the size of a head. Then, he pull the trigger back completely, firing a three round burst at the rest of the mannequin. There was nothing left of its upper body, only the legs were left standing. The audience cheered and whooped at the sight.

"Did you see that shockwave?" shouted Moritz. Zafir just nodded enthusiastically.

"This suit of armour is real, salvaged from a battlefield. The man who was inside of it died of injuries sustained in an avalanche," explained the von Hodenberg as Zafir nudged Moritz in the ribs. "Who wants to see what happens when we fire this weapon at that piece of glorified plastic?"

Another cheer, and Stubbs fired some more bursts at the armour. It shattered as the bullets impacted, again the crowd cheered at the demonstration of power. Manali and Peeko also looked very interested.

"The TR-1 is in other aspects almost identical to the STG-77. Around 700 rounds per minute, and the ammunition itself is similar. We have sent the blueprints to these weapons around the globe to other research teams, and hope they will be able to implement them as well."

Everyone clapped, but the professor wasn't finished.

"There are three more things we have to show you today. This here is a bullet. Everyone see it? I'll put it on the projector." Everyone looked, curious. "But it's not a normal bullet. It uses the earth's gravitational pull to calculate how far it has flown, by counting how many times it has rotated. At a predefined moment, set by the wielder of the weapon with a special attachment, the round will explode. This increases its chances of a kill within a thirty centimeter radius of that explosion exponentially. Observe."

Stubbs had swapped for his Enfield, which had a special sight on top, and fired at a new mannequin made of jelly. It was torn to shreds as he continued to fire.

"Essentially, it is like firing a shotgun from point-blank range. It shreds, and is especially useful with unarmoured opponents hiding behind low cover such as walls. This concept existed before the Imps arrived for larger caliber guns on APCs, but now it is available to all."

The cheering and clapping went on for a few seconds before quiet returned.

"For my next trick, I will show you our most significant advance in our technology in terms of transport."

Von Hodenberg pressed a button one of the hangar doors opened, the slow massive doors creaking open as he continued to speak.

"The biggest disadvantage our Air Force suffers from when fighting enemy aircraft is their ability to get anywhere fast from space. The enemy fighters, designated TIE are, according to our rebel sources, in actual fact relatively weak and expendable to the enemy. They have legions of pilots available. That won't work for us. Nor is it something I could abide as an engineer, such a waste. Again, we weren't too far off this development, in terms of our civilisation. Meeting Sergeant Manali and Kapitän Peeko has just made the process faster. I would therefore like to introduce you to Earth's very first space-capable fighter: the Avenger. This particular one is named after Major-General Francis Harrison, the first man to strike the enemy in this war."

The sleek, black spaceship was pushed forward on its wheels by a special car that reminded Moritz of those trucks at the airport. It was, in fact, clearly an adapted Eurofighter Typhoon. Disappointment swelled through the ranks as people recognised the base aircraft.

"This ship is armed with the same railgun technology as the TR-1, however it has been made more powerful. All that was missing from the Eurofighter itself to become space-capable were engines and manoeuvring boosters that work in space, protection from the vacuum for the pilot, and finally being made of the right elements. There are ways to protect oneself from enemy lasers, at least somewhat, and while it may not look like it, this ship can take a couple of hits before going down. We do not have many of these, but we are adapting and refining the design. Soon, our bravest pilots will be testing these out in real engagements with the enemy, who hopefully won't realise they can be followed until it is too late. Armament, aside from the rail guns, include improved rockets that will be more effective against TIE-Fighters, and even a possible nuclear payload to take out priority targets in space."

Stunned, everyone went quiet. Then, the other hangar doors opened slowly, and sunlight flooded in from outside.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Spring is coming, and with it comes our resurgence. The Empire will not know what hit them. They will not be able to counter this weaponry. We will continue to improve it, and we will continue to make their lives a living hell, for the duration that they decide to stay, or until we die. Never give in! They will pay dearly every time they send troops down, we can promise them that."

With that, Roman Büschl flicked the final switch from his pre-flight check, igniting the engines. The cockpit wasn't all that different than it was usually. A roar came from where the jet engines used to be, and he lurched forward and out into the sky, blinding those behind who were cheering and clapping with the blue glow of the new engines. Soon, he figured, it wouldn't just be test flights anymore, but real dogfights. He relished the chance to show those Imps a thing or two.

'''''''''''''''''''''

**Aboard the Dragonfang**

'''''''''''''''''''''

Theese stomped around his office in an apparent huff. Things were going extremely badly Earth-side, Kobarrn had not reported back in some time, Vader had not said anything since the Outpost near the damned Earthlings' base in the mountains had been totally destroyed. He was losing fighters, dropships, men, and only half the planet was anywhere near secured. The problem was that the warriors on that planet had no qualms being away from their major cities. Civilian populations were peaceful but not helpful. Prison camps were badly overrun, but the refugee camps they had set up to feed the population were almost empty, as there had been a lot of preparation before the invasion fleet hat even arrived. Everyone seemed to have enough food to last them, already several months.

It was not through foolishness that Theese had come to his powerful position. He knew there were elements of subterfuge within his forces, and he knew he had enemies. There wasn't anyone giving him information. Where was that damnable Kobarrn? He would die soon enough when he came back. He knew too much about Theese in general, and was getting too clever for his own good. Vader, on the other hand, would have to be handled rather differently. He wanted one thing, and one thing only: to find Skywalker. That was fine.

"But it's simple, then, really, isn't it?" he said aloud, to no one in particular. "I either find Skywalker for him here and hand him in... or Skywalker is found somewhere else. Not in this system. And then he'll leave."

**Thanks for reading. It's been a tough few years, and I lost interest in writing. I'm not even really sure why. Watching Elysium and playing Xcom (which has a similar scenario, in a way) kinda inspired me. I wanted to see stormtroopers getting cut to bits by rail guns, I wanted to see TIE-Fighters getting taken down by Eurofighters and I wanted to see Imperial Troopers getting their heads popped open like watermelons by exploding ammunition. So that's what you'll get, too.**

**By the way, anyone seen Kobarrn or Skywalker? What are they up to?**


End file.
